Blackout
by raileht
Summary: Diane Lockhart and the rest of the cast as well as a slew of original characters.
1. Chapter 1: Goodnight, Goodnight

**Blackout**  
by: raileht

**Summary: **It was over. The fight in her was almost completely out and she was nearing total exhaustion. She was about to die.**  
**

**Disclaimer: **The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.**  
Rating: **T, to be safe**  
Spoilers/Timeline:** post-finale but I've omitted some facts and scenes to better fit the story and you'll figure out which ones I hadn't included along the way. But if you have questions, just ask.

**Warning: **Bad words and a lot of violence right from the start. _Will be a somewhat dark story so people will be in pain—physical and emotional._ Maybe not for the faint hearted. Don't say I didn't warn you, okay?**  
Warning#2: **Can this be considered AU? Yes, probably. **AU-ish.**

**Chapter Title taken from:**  
Maroon 5, _Goodnight, Goodnight_

-o0oo0oo0o-

**Chapter One: Goodnight, Goodnight**

"Jesus Christ, Diane, what the hell were you thinking?"

The few employees left in the building could clearly hear the partners of Lockhart & Gardner going at it once again. For the past few days, tensions had been higher than normal and the rumor mill was buzzing as to why the usually professional partners could not seem to stay in one room lately. It was becoming normal custom to hear them fighting after business hours now, voices being raised at each other almost viciously behind the non-sound proofed and all glass offices of both partners.

It had been a few months since the third senior partner, Jonas Stern had left, and once again, the rumor mill kept everyone well informed of what had been happening and what _could _happen. Stern had left with his golden parachute, taking quite a large third of the firm's profits that led his remaining former protégé and associate to make some drastic cost-cutting. It had started with the lay-offs, the elimination of unnecessary miscellaneous things in the office like the fresh flowers every morning and then, sadly, a few more lay offs.

There had been talk that the decision to find a third partner was the final course of action that had been decided upon. And as the rumor mills had reported, the search for the third partner had been unsuccessful as a few known names walked in and out of meetings with Diane Lockhart and Will Gardner. The buzzing predicted that if in maybe three or four months with no signs of a good potential third, the firm would be split in two where each partner would take his or her half, the people willing to go with whoever they decide and start new firms separately.

Diane and Will had tried to keep it quiet, but the rumors flew anyway. Observant eyes and ears, plus the hole they were yet to find out about from the signage they changed helped their employees figure out and speculate what was happening behind closed doors. The partners were also unaware, of course, that someone in the break room had already started a list of pros and cons as to who the employees should consider going with. Another started a pool on how long Lockhart & Gardner had left.

A few, though this one they were aware of, had already been planning to send out résumés to other firms, particularly the firm Stern recently launched that was still in the process of taking in new associates.

"How dare you?"

"How dare—! Tell me, since when do you take cases from animal rights activists, Diane?"

Those who had decided to burn the midnight oil that night decided it would be best to duck out now. Both partners were in Diane Lockhart's office, neither of their voices lowering and clearly showing no signs that this argument was ending any time soon.

"I defended that _kid _against criminal charges! Her brutality suit will be filed against the police department and the city! Wentworth & Lennox just happened to be the location! There is _no _conflict of interest."

"Oh, _just happened to be the location_?" Will Gardner's voice boomed with incredulity just as three associates moved quietly towards the elevators, avoiding eye contact with each other and hoping they wouldn't have to take long to get down to the garage. As valuable as information may be, they didn't want to be seen.

"Did you even _care _that Wentworth & Lennox are owned by the same parent? You didn't, did you? You just came right in for another of your _goddamned _pet causes!" Will growled. "Dr. Coolidge called me, Diane! _My _partner is representing the group that picketed _his_ company! _My partner_! Do you have any idea how that looks?"

"My client had no adverse interest to the—"

"Oh, cut the bullshit!" Will interrupted. "She helped ruin their reputatin! They're just a quiet Dutch company and you and _your _pet cause managed to torpedo that with your goddamned case! It's a PR nightmare, for god's sake! They're ready to walk, Diane, do you understand that?"

"Don't you _dare_ start being condescending, Will," Diane hissed in a dangerously low voice.

"Why not? They bring _money_ that we _need_," he replied, unfazed by the anger he could see raging in her eyes. "They can _actually _pay for their billable hours, unlike your pro-bono pet—"

"I _pull _my own weight around here!" she defended angrily, insulted at his insinuation that _she _was weighing them down. "Those _pet causes _I do _matter_ and they may be pro bono but _damn it_, my billings are _equal _to yours. In fact, _if _I'm remembering correctly, weren't they _better _last year?"

"I have to look to the future," he responded. "I want to go further into the drug company business. The money—"

"That's what's it all about, isn't it, Will?" she cut in with a slight hiss. "The _money_."

"Oh, is that a bad word now?" he replied sarcastically. "I shouldn't dare make more than a hundred grand to keep this firm? God forbid."

"You used to say you didn't need fifty."

"That was then," he replied. "This is now and I want a future. I _want _too look to the future and I may not have had the cushy Lockhart life with the handy trust fund, but—"

"_Excuse me?_"

"Come off it, Diane," Will said, shaking his head slightly as he tucked his hands into his pocket. "You don't need the money, we both know it, so you're fine taking on those pro bono clients. But we're _not_ the same. _We _actually had to work for our careers to get by—"

"HOW DARE YOU?" she suddenly snarled, eyes wide as she clenched her fists at her sides. She was tempted to lash out physically, to hit him just for saying that. She'd never felt so violent before, she was so angry her entire body shook.

"Well, it's true!" he replied heatedly. "You _have _the money and you may not _want _a family and a future, but I DO. I want the future, I want to have a firm—"

"And I don't?"

"You can _afford_ not to!"

"That's bullshit and you know it!" she retaliated as she took a step closer towards him. She could barely feel her sharp nails digging into the soft flesh of her palms and completely missed the blood that seeped from the crescent moon cuts. "I _worked _to build this firm, just as much as you did and I WORKED my ass off for it! Blood, sweat and tears, Will, I _did _it ALL just as you did."

"You actually have a fall back, we don't," Will retorted. "It's not easy—"

"And you think it's easy for _me_?" Diane replied angrily though she managed to keep her voice down this time. This was their third fight of the week and she was exhausted. She'd barely gotten enough sleep in the past few days, not that anyone knew. Tonight, she desperately needed a break. They'd said enough to each other and lately, it was always the same thing. Diane was tired already. If Will wanted to fight, there was always tomorrow.

"We made sacrifices, Will, _all _of us did," she said in a low voice. "I gave up _a lot _to be here and I'm telling you now, _don't _you dare belittle that just because you're angry."

"Diane—"

"Will, enough," she raised her hand, palm outward and Will didn't miss the tiny drops of blood that had begun to bead on her pale skin. "I'm done…it's _enough_."

"What?" he asked, surprised. She never backed down from a fight, especially when she needed to defend herself. Did she mean she was done for the night or was she _done_?

"I'm going home," she said, shaking her head as she turned to grab her bag. Will had managed to ambush her when she was just about to leave and the moment they'd begun raising their voices at each other, she had thrown her things onto her desk with the knowledge that it was going to be a while before she would be able to truly leave.

"We are not finished here, Diane."

"And we won't be for a while," she replied with a slight nod as she slipped her dark coat back on. "I told you, we're heading into a bad time and fighting about this all night won't fix it. In fact, it'll make things worst…we've said some things, Will, we should stop before we say anything more…permanently damaging."

"Diane—"

"We were friends before," she cut in softly. "I don't want to sacrifice that as well just because times are hard. We're hurting each other already, Will."

Will nodded, exhaling slowly as he silently acknowledge that she was right. They _had_ hurt each other already and tonight, he'd drawn the most blood. He had cut through the business and into her personal life, which was uncalled for. They were friends once, but after tonight, he wasn't so sure anymore.

"We should stop before we completely alienate each other," she finished. "And that's one thing the firm doesn't need, should we still decide to keep it." She took a deep breath as her eyes met his. "Goodnight, Will. Turn the lights out when you leave."

He barely had the time to reply as she pulled the doors of her office open and walked out. He stood there, in the middle of the now empty room. Things were getting complicated. What were they doing? They were ripping each other apart.

Will sighed deeply, massaging his temples with a slight hum. He needed to get himself together and though he was tempted to call Diane back, he knew he shouldn't. She'd been looking run down the past couple of days, despite the impeccable suits and flawless make up. It had already gotten to the point where she couldn't cover them with cosmetics anymore and Will knew that meant she desperately needed a break.

He would talk to her tomorrow.

-o0o-

After picking up Justice from Doggy Day Care and once again paying extra for being late in picking him up, Diane bundled up her little furry companion and sat him down on the passenger seat after receiving a series of dog kisses. Justice was mostly a well behaved dog and tended to miss her when she was gone for too long, which was why Diane thought he was perfect for her.

She had joked a few times that having Justice was better than a man. She could leave him in day care, have him pampered and by the end of the day, he'd still kiss her hello without pouting because she was once again late. It was the ideal relationship for a very busy lawyer like herself.

Driving home as Justice dozed in his basket strapped properly to the seat while Bach played in the background, Diane let the music relax her after a stressful end to her workday. She was thankful Justice wasn't easily bothered by loud music when she decided to raise the volume a few notches higher in an effort to drown out Will's echoing voice in her head.

If she let her thoughts go back to her office and what had just taken place, she was sure she would only get mad again. And with the long commute to her lakeside home, she didn't want to feel those negative emotions again. She didn't want to take them home with her, didn't want to go to bed angry. She'd have enough time for all those tomorrow.

Diane sighed, already feeling fatigue begin to settle deeper into her bones. She craved a long, luxurious bath, but in her state, she was sure to fall asleep in the tub and risk drowning. Maybe getting to bed as soon as humanly possible was a better idea.

A yawn escaped her lips and Diane decided, yes, bed it was.

-o0o-

Pulling into her garage Diane eased Justice from her basket, her bag hanging securely from her arm. It was only then she realized she had forgotten to bring her briefcase full of her files. Usually, she would have been upset, but tonight she was fine. She knew she was toeing the line of her limit and even if she'd brought her case files home, she wouldn't have even been able to take them out. She'd fall asleep on them anyway.

"Come on, darling," she said to Justice as she began to squirm in her arms and just as she slammed her door closed, the furry animal managed to wiggle out of her grasp, jumping easily to the ground and scrambling towards the door that would lead into the house. Tiny paws scratched at the door, demanding to be let in.

"I'm coming, you nag," she muttered after making sure the doors of her car were locked as well as her garage. She lived in a safe community called Barrington Lake and though it was not as A-list as the famed Highland Park, there were still a few residents who opted for the smaller community for the privacy and security it offered.

Like Highland Park, Barrington Lake was a little far from the city and it usually meant that Diane be up at five in the morning, be ready by six and leave by seven to make it to work a before eight. The commute was long, but Diane didn't mind. She liked being away from the hustle and bustle of every day life in the metropolis. She liked having a haven she could come home to away from everything. She loved being next to the lake and nature. It was the type of life she always dreamt.

But of course, there were times when work got too much too fast and the place she had in the city, the same place where she had grown up that her father had passed on to her, served as temporary respite in between time-consuming cases. It was a large house, the home of the previous generations of Lockharts had also occupied and while Diane loved that large house too, she preferred her quiet place by the lake. Occasionally, she stayed at the Lockhart House but only when she absolutely had to.

The Lockhart House was a piece of her family history in Chicago, but her home in Barrington Lake was just for her. Once a week, she had people clean the house and on holidays, should family members decide it was time to visit Diane and Chicago again, they stayed there where there were more than enough rooms for the remaining Lockharts.

"I'm coming," she said again, slipping the key into the door and pushing it open with one foot just as her bag slipped from her shoulder. Justice scrambled inside the dark house, right into the kitchen, and it was only then Diane wondered why all the lights were off when she scheduled them to turn on at an exact hour every day.

Reaching for the first switch, she pushed it to turn the kitchen lights on, but nothing happened. Frowning, she wondered if there was some sort of blackout or if something happened to the electricity. Damn, she really did not need this.

"Justice?" she called as she placed her things on the kitchen counter, one hand blindly digging into her purse for her phone. Barrington had an all-night service for emergencies such as this and Diane was thankful.

The house was dark enough for her to see just the outline of her hands but she knew her home enough to walk with a blindfold around and since she lived alone and was, as Will once put it delicately, a neat freak, there were little chances of her tripping over something. She was sure she kept a flashlight in the coat closet next to the entryway of the house.

"Justice?" she called again, only to receive hear him growl. "Justice?" she frowned. She'd never gotten a reaction like that from him before. Pressing 'enter' on her phone, she let it light up and guide her, her steps measured just in case Justice decided to show up and surprise her. She didn't want to end up stepping on him.

She heard him growl again and this time, Diane stopped. She was sure she was somewhere between the hall that led to the front entryway and the stairs. Not too far away, she could still hear Justice growling, but could not figure out at what.

Shaking her head, Diane dialed the number for the aide to help her with her electricity. She waited, leaning against wall and very much tempted to just slide down and sit. "Yes, this is Diane Lockhart and I was wondering if—" she stopped when she heard Justice bark then let out a loud cry followed by a pitiful whine. "Justice?"

Pushing against the wall she followed where she was sure the sound came from, the phone that was still connected to the aide, Mario, was immediately forgotten as she went to see what had happened to her dog. She was sure the sound came from the living room, just to the left of the entryway.

"Justice?"

This time, there was no reply or any sign of her dog. Diane could feel her heart beating wildly and her palms began to sweat. "Just-Justice?" suddenly, she was finding it quite hard to breathe properly. Where was that damned dog?

With one hand trailing against the wall, she took slow deliberate steps to the living room, making sure not to make any sounds or sudden movements. There was still no answer from Justice. She tried to look out for anything—sound, movement or whatever else that was out of place. Diane had the chilling feeling that she wasn't alone in the house.

There was barely a whoosh of air before a large, well-muscled arm wrapped itself around her neck, dragging her body back against a harder and definitely larger one. She let out a gasped but it was cut off by a choke hold. She dropped her phone just as a large hand came up and clamped itself over her mouth and nose, the grip hard enough to make her believe he was about to crush half of her face in one twitch. By instinct, her hands reached automatically with her sharp nails to try and remove the vice like grip that threatened to break her.

"I wouldn't scream," came the harsh whisper and she could feel his hot breath on her cheek. "Unless you want me to cut you, I wouldn't." The grip around her neck tightened and her body involuntarily jerked though she tried to will herself to stay calm. "Do you understand?"

She nodded, slowly and shakily.

"I'm going to remove my hand, make any sudden moves or scream and I will hurt you," the harsh whisper again. She nodded. She could taste fear in her mouth. "Put your hands down."

She did as she was told and felt his hand leave her mouth. She swallowed hard before gathering up the courage to speak, "What do you want? Take anything just—"

"Shut up," the pressure on her neck tightened. "No talking, just shut up."

"What do you want?" she hoped she could stall for time but she felt him push her harshly forward, making her stumble slightly. "There's no money in this house—"

"I said shut up!" he pushed her forward again and this time, she felt her foot brush something and propel it forward in one slide. She realized it must have been her phone. "Don't fuck with me, all right? I said shut up!"

There was a small table with a lamp on it not too far away and, by sheer impulse Diane kicked the table over, startling the intruder enough to jump as the loud crash echoed in the empty house. She grabbed the slim chance to slip out of his grasp, but not before she could slam one high heeled pump onto his foot and turn around and deliver a sharp blow to his nose. She missed by a few inches, but she managed to catch the side of her target as well as somewhere near his eye.

She heard him bellow as she bent down in a desperate effort to grab her phone and as if the gods were on her side, she managed to feel it with her fingers and made a quick grab for it. She scrambled to her feet and took off just as he screamed, "You bitch!"

Diane took the window of opportunity she had created for herself and raced down towards the end of the hall. It would lead her with three places to go: living room, the drawing room and the stairs that would lead her up to the second floor. Barely thinking coherently, she raced up the steps, taking them two at a time. She hoped if she put enough distance between them, she could slip into her bedroom door where there was a phone and a lock. She'd find something to defend herself with there, maybe the poker from her fireplace.

But she was only halfway up when she felt a hand clamp around her ankle and screamed when she was suddenly pulled down. The momentum caused her flail helplessly and fall against the steps, her temple meeting the carpeted step with a loud thud as well as her elbow. She hissed as the pain radiated all the way down to her arm. Her head spun.

"You'll pay for that, you bitch," she heard him hiss as he manhandled her, pulling her down and turning her around to slam her back against the steps, knocking the wind out of her. "I'm done being nice," he snarled then slammed the back of his hand against her cheek in full force.

Her head snapped to the side and immediately she could taste the metallic taste of blood, bitter against her tongue and it filled her mouth. She spat out blood, letting them land on the carpet underneath her. She moaned as her head continued to spin. "Oh, god…"

She felt him pick her up, grabbing her by the arms and dragging her back down the stairs. She was still a little disoriented from the blow to her head, but she was coherent enough to wonder where she'd put her phone and with utter dismay, realized she had dropped it again.

God, she thought fearfully as she was jostled down the stairs with each shove, she was going to die. Tonight, in her own home she was about to be murdered.

They reached the first landing that met the wall and he shoved her again, hard enough for her shoulder to slam against the concrete. Everywhere hurt and Diane let her body roll and braced her back against the wall. She crouched, knowing that if she straightened up she would only get more pain and looked up just in time to see his silhouette loom above her.

"I'll make you pay," he hissed and in the darkness, Diane could see his hand reach out to her. She was going to die tonight, but damn it, she wasn't going give in easily. She was going to fight, even if she knew she wouldn't win in the end. She would die fighting.

Breathing heavily, she waited until he was close enough before she reached out and slammed her fist to the side of his head while her other hand dug into his face, with a cry her long fingernails viciously raked starting from the corner of his eye and down to his cheek.

He howled again as he brought his hand to his face and at the same time lashed out in retaliation, shoving her hard and making her fly off the landing and off the two last steps of the stairs in the turn. She flailed, barely able to hold on to the banister before she regained her footing.

She lost one shoe and decided to kick the other one off before forcing herself to run again in the darkness, hoping beyond hope she would at least make it to her kitchen. There, she would find something to defend herself with.

Heart pounding and covered in sweat, she hurried down the hall and she made the last turn to her kitchen where she had left her bag and coat on the counter. She ignored them and hurried to her drawers and pulled out the largest knife she could find. Turning around and making sure the cabinets were to her back and she had the advantage of having the kitchen island in case she needed a quick getaway. Diane held the chef's knife at a safe, but defensive distance, breathing heavily and her heart barely able to keep up.

The taste of blood was still present in her mouth, but she didn't care. She had a madman to defend herself from and only had a knife as a weapon. By god, she'd taken classes on self-defense, but those had been incredibly basic. She didn't even have a clue on how to use a knife, but she had no choice. She'd make do with what she had.

Briefly, she entertained the idea of running outside and screaming for help, but she knew the doors of her garage would be too slow. She would barely be out before he would catch her and if he did, she was as good as dead, no matter who might hear her scream.

Diane waited in the dark, waited for him to stumble back in and make her pay. She would stab whatever the hell she could reach, dehumanize him and forget he was anyone's something because the reality of the situation was, it was her or him and there was no way in hell she would let it be her. She had too much to live for still.

She wasn't ready to die.

Diane heard shuffling noises and felt her entire body tense then freeze. Her hand tightened its hold on the knife while the other shakily pushed her hair out of her face. It was dark enough, she didn't need errant strands of her hair distracting her. She swallowed nervously, feeling the saliva mixed with blood go down in with that disgusting metallic taste she so hated.

She heard steps that continued to get closer and her body involuntarily shifted, one foot transferring one weight to another to balance herself properly. With each step that drew closer, she found herself breathing heavier.

"I'm gonna _enjoy _making you pay, Lockhart," she heard him say in that harsh whisper again and she could feel the malice in his voice. She suppressed a shiver and held on to the knife with both hands. "Come on, bitch, give me the best you got."

The moon was high enough to shed a little light into the kitchen and she could see his silhouette as he stalked into the room and she knew he could see her as well. What about the knife? She was sure he saw that too.

He began to laugh, "What are you gonna do? Stab me? Go ahead, lady. I _dare_ you."

Faster than she could anticipate, he charged at her, his large body surprisingly maneuvering around the island easily. He rammed his body against hers, effectively pinning her against the cabinets and knocking the wind out of her, but Diane held on desperately to the knife even as she screamed out in pain. He had effectively crushed her with one blow that almost left her completely breathless.

He raised his fist to strike her again, but she cut him off with a slash of the knife, grunting as she did so. Hearing him scream was enough to let her know she'd managed to draw blood. She heard him actually _growl _as she tried to push him off, only to have him grab her around the neck again.

Diane's eyes widened as she watched her own arm arch down and slice cleanly through her thick muscled attacker, cutting deeply into the skin of his forearm. He screamed and one hand left the ring around her neck, the injured one flailing as blood began to flow from the deep cut.

"Fucking bitch," he growled again, squeezing her neck tighter and this time, his injured hand made a grab for the knife. His hand reached for the blade itself and Diane let out a choked scream. She twisted the knife and heard him growl again but refused to let go. Blood began to slip through his fingers and down to his wrist.

He was successfully cutting the air from her neck even as they fought and the more effort she exerted, the more oxygen her body demanded. She needed to get him off her before she passed out from lack of air. Viciously, she slashed at the arm of the hand holding on to her slim neck and rammed her knee against his groin. He let out a choked grunt as he curled up in pain, effectively letting her neck free. Diane felt the pointed end of the blade dig into his skin and with a jolt, she plunged the knife deeper into his flesh.

"Fuck!" he screamed, startling her with a hard shove, his bloody hand reaching for the newest damage Diane had caused. "I'm going to cut you in pieces, you fucking bitch!"

Diane jumped aside, blood covered knife still held in hand and tried to run only to have him grab a part of her blouse, pulling hard then grabbing a fistful of her hair. She screamed.

"_Where _the hell do you think you're going?" he yelled with a hard jerk, pulling her head back ruthlessly. He reached for her wrist and twisted it awkwardly, making Diane cry out and drop the knife. It fell to the floor in a loud clatter. "Not so powerful now, are you?"

"You can't win," he hissed as he pulled her closer to him, her back to his front, then unceremoniously launched her body forward. She tripped and fell against the island, her stomach colliding with a sharp edge of a corner. She gasped in pain and slowly slid to the floor.

Diane felt the tears come as she curled up in a ball with her arms around her severely throbbing middle, the pain greater than she'd ever felt. This was it, she thought mournfully as a sob escaped her throat, she was about to die. It was over. The fight in her was almost completely out and she was in pain and nearing total exhaustion.

She was about to die.

"It was fun while it lasted," he whispered as he gingerly walked towards where she lay helplessly curled up on her kitchen floor. He raised his foot high up in the air.

"No…" she managed to moan as he saw him position his foot above her prone form. He could crush her easily with one foot and end it all, she thought fearfully. _This was it._

He was going to finish her off in her own home.

With wide eyes, she watched as his boot came at her faster than a freight train before she could close her eyes. Diane could only let out a small scream as pain exploded everywhere once again and everything went completely black.

Silence reigned.

Breathing heavily, the burly man standing over the form of the fallen woman grabbed the deep cut on his forearm. He waited a few moments to see if she would get up again. He had severely underestimated her, he thought angrily. The bitch put up a hell of a fight.

He waited for her to move but she didn't. He smirked and shook his head. A hell of a fight, but she didn't have a chance. His job was done and now it was time to go he decided and made his way to the back of the house, turning only once to make sure she hadn't gotten up.

She didn't and in fact, he wasn't even sure if she had stopped breathing already. It didn't matter. He'd done a number on her, if she wasn't dead yet, it was only a matter of time and knowing her, nobody was going to find the body until the end of the next day at the earliest. She would die, slowly.

He smirked, "Goodnight, Diane."

The bitch deserved it.

-o0o-

What the hell was he doing?

Will wondered not for the first time as he drove through the winding roads late in the night. After his discussion with Diane, he had desperately tried to continue the work he had left hanging before he went to confront her. He had sat there, trying to relax by tossing around his lucky baseball before finally deciding to go after her. Unfortunately, by then she'd been gone. It took him less than five minutes to decide to follow her.

It wasn't any sort of excuse, but everything he had said that night had been out of surprise and anger. After the last few days, he hadn't really planned on having another fight with his partner. He'd honestly been trying not to cause the already existing rift between them to widen, but he'd been so taken aback he hadn't been able to help himself.

It had always been common knowledge that Will was the confrontational one while Diane was the more rational and quiet one. Stern on the other hand had been, for want of a better term, the wild card.

Tonight had been a disaster, he realized, as he recalled the things he had said. Suddenly, even if he was rarely one to apologize, he wanted nothing more than to apologize to Diane. The things he had said had been hurtful and almost vicious, completely unfair to her, and he knew he could be considered lucky if she even let him walk away _alive _tonight.

It was fairly late, nearly thirty minutes after she had said good night, and Will knew he was risking upsetting her more by waking her up after a none to pleasant end to the day, but somehow, he couldn't help the urge to go to her place right then, if only to begin to make right the things that had gone so horribly wrong between them.

They'd agreed long ago business was business and personal things stayed way outside the office. Tonight, Will knew he had crossed the line so far it was already miles behind him, and he wanted nothing more to change that. He hadn't lied when he said he respected her because he truly did. He valued not only having the opportunity to work with her, but also to have had the pleasure and privilege to be the very few people in her circle she trusted not only with her work, but with her personal life as well.

Of course, the same could not be said for the last few weeks, and Will was beginning to truly regret that now that he had stepped back and surveyed what had been happening between them lately. Except for the last 'discussion' about the ballistics expert, which he'd only found out because of the case, he really didn't know anything about her life at the moment.

In fact, he hadn't even been able to ask her about her somewhat _radical_ change of taste in men. Kurt McVeigh had been the cowboy type—plaid shirt, boots, facial hair and drove a pickup, something he had never imagined her to be interested in. He was sure she was more for the Malcolm Overby type—three piece suit, Italian shoes, clean cut and with a matching Mercedez or Bentley. It had been something he had meant to talk about with her as well, not to reprimand, but rather to catch up.

It was obvious there had been something between them when she came in as he talked to Kurt. He'd seen Diane flirt enough times to know when she was doing it and right then, she'd been doing just that. The poor bastard could barely keep his eyes away from her legs and she knew it. Will was sure that was her reason for going in and sitting like that. She was one of the classiest flirters Will had ever encountered—subtle, but clear, provocative but not vulgar.

Will smirked as memories trundled on by, reminding him what a spitfire his partner had always been. He couldn't really blame the cowboy for staring. He was a man, after all. If this were the past, Will would have asked her to share a drink after work then discuss her new _friend_, tease her and laugh about it. They liked chatting when there wasn't too much work. It was relaxing.

Which only made Will regret the way things were turning out even more.

Diane had been right, once they had been friends. It was time Will started rectifying that. The firm was not doing well and they were in danger of things falling completely apart, he didn't want to end up losing both his partner and his friend. Diane had already expressed she felt the same way.

Of course, he wasn't sure if restoring their personal relationship _tonight_ was a good idea, but Will could not help himself. He strongly felt this dark cloud that hung over them had been around long enough. He would try and make her listen, if only for a little tonight then he would let her go back to bed. He'd even _try _and go as far a ordering her to take at least half the day off the next day. He could only imagine how she would react to that.

He laughed. _Yeah, right_. The woman was a notorious workaholic. She didn't achieve her numerous accomplishments by taking days off and weekend breaks. In fact, Will wasn't even sure if the word 'day off' was ever uttered voluntarily by her when the subject was _her_. He could remember a few times in the years they'd worked together where her wild card mentor, Stern, had ambushed her just to make her get a few days off to catch a break.

Will wasn't a fan of Jonas Stern, but for all his rebellion and Peter Pan Syndrome-like behavior, he could acknowledge that Stern had taken care of Diane a few times that stopped her from burning out. The old crone had ambushed Diane many a times with tickets to some off and away place for a few days to help her recharge. As expected, Diane kicked and screamed, but followed anyway—she respected and revered her mentor too much to disobey.

Stern had sat back in his office after one of his rescue missions concerning Diane one time and Will couldn't help but comment that he'd done a good thing. The scruffy older man had shrugged and muttered it was just his way of _'taking care of his assets'._ They left it at that.

With Stern gone, Will knew he would have to take up that task or else have Diane burn out, or worse, work herself to death. The last thing Stern had done was send Diane to a spa after a particularly grueling case that had taken all three of them along with an army of their associates to tackle down. Diane had stayed up for most of almost two weeks with less than three hours of sleep each day—mostly in the firm—and functioned only through tumblers full of coffee, alcohol and a few bites just enough for a bird.

By the end, she had all but collapsed in her office. Stern managed to lull her into sleep and left her waking up in an exclusive club in Chicago where she'd been treated to a three-day revitalization plan and hadn't been allowed to leave, under Stern's orders, until day four. Diane came back, four full days later, looking wonderfully healthy again to her mentor's approval.

Remembering how tired she looked tonight, Will wondered if another ambush was due again. He would try that club tomorrow, maybe he could get Diane in and once he did, all he'd need to do was convince her to go. No way in hell he would be able to get away with things the way Stern did. It was _impossible_.

Shaking his head, he made the turn to her driveway, only to find the house completely dark. Damn, he thought, she was sleeping already. Will was tempted to turn back and go home to his condo in the city instead, but decided against it. He'd driven all this way, out in the middle of practically nowhere, he wasn't going to waste all that just to stand outside her house.

Killing his engine, he slipped out of his car and as he moved to activate his alarm system, he felt a whoosh of air behind him. He turned only to see nothing except the various 'nature things' that Diane loved so much about the place. He had grown up a city boy and though he was up for anything, nature was not totally his avenue. The most experience he'd had as a child had been camping with his fellow boy scouts.

And if he remembered correctly, he hadn't enjoyed it all that much. Will had almost lost his set of lucky baseball cards that he, up until now, kept safely guarded. He would have really lost his mind if his prized collection had fallen in the lake because that jerk Preston Wright decided it would be funny try to push him into the water.

In Diane's Barrington Lake home, trees and plants and bushes were everywhere and she even had a small rose garden somewhere her house, if he remembered correctly. Though, of course, he knew she wasn't the one responsible for growing them for obvious reasons, but he knew she liked looking at them. It was one of the few well kept secrets in the firm that the Queen was fond of red roses, gardenias and Casablanca lilies.

Will always marveled at how different Diane Lockhart the top Chicago litigator and Diane Lockhart the common citizen could be. The woman was a walking riddle and he had long ago given up trying to figure her out and instead accepted what came to him. So far, he hadn't been disappointed yet. Not that he ever expected to.

Tucking his car keys into his pocket, he headed to the front of her house. He would ring the doorbell, expect her to growl and bite his head off for waking her up then, if she wasn't too pissed off, let him in. If he was lucky, maybe she'd even let him stay in one of her guest rooms. If all that went as planned, of course, he'd had to get up before the crack of dawn to make it to his place and change to be in time for work, but Will didn't mind. He was used to getting little sleep.

Looking around, Will pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his hand as he made his way to her front door. He took a deep breath before pressing the doorbell. The melodious chime echoed throughout the house.

No answer.

He tried again and waited, and found the same result. Sighing, he began to knock, "Diane? You awake? It's Will…I know it's late, but need to talk to you."

Shaking his head, he knocked again, "Diane? Come on, it's Will…I'm not here to fight, I swear. I just came to talk...Diane?"

Frowning, Will decided to try the doorknob and was immediately surprised to find it was unlocked. Diane wouldn't normally leave doors unlocked, especially at her house. It was very much unlike her. Gingerly, he turned the knob, "Diane?"

Swallowing hard and feeling like he was in a bad cliché slasher film, Will tried to forget the foolishness he was feeling and pushed the door open slowly. If she was waiting with a lamp ready to break on his head, he would have to be careful.

"Diane? You here?" he tried reaching where he could remember the light switch was and found it. With an easy flick of his finger, the lights on the entryway immediately came to life. "Diane?"

The first thing he saw wasn't Diane, but rather, the shoes she'd worn that day. He wasn't the type to remember women's fashion, but he remembered that particular pair as the ones she had promised to bludgeon him with one day after a particularly playful argument. They were plain black with _high, high _heels. He also remembered the designer had a funny name.

_Jimmy Choo. _The moment she'd uttered the name, he had laughed and repeated it over and over again, much to her annoyance. Rolling her eyes, she then repeated a revised version of her threat and this time dictated he was _never _allowed to say that name ever again lest be bludgeon to death by her favorite Choos.

The said pair of shoes were far apart from each other, the first at the landing of the stairs leading to the second floor of the house and the other was a few feet away in front of him, both turned on its side as if they'd been carelessly dropped.

Diane had always been a neat person and Will wondered what would compel her to leave her things lying around like that, especially the shoes she claimed to love. Frowning deeper, he looked further into the house and found an overturned small table by the wall and an antique Tiffany lamp lay broken in pieces next to it.

Will felt his heart begin to race as he finally accepted that something was indeed wrong with the whole situation and he feared something terrible had happened to Diane.

"Diane?" he called again as he carefully made his way into the house. He switched on the lights in his way, waited then went on, looking into each area before proceeding deeper. "Diane? Can you hear me? Answer me!"

Heading towards the kitchen, the shuffling sound caught Will's attention from behind and he turned, fists raised high in the air only to find no one. He looked down and realized, a few feet away, a limping Justice was slowly making his way to Will, emerging from the living room.

"Justice," he said to the dog, cursing him slightly for scaring him so much. He went to the dog and scratched him behind the ear comfortingly as he surveyed the damage. It looked as if his left hind leg was broken. "Where's your mistress, boy? Is she here? Did she go out to get you something for your leg, huh?"

Will hoped to god Justice had just gotten hurt and Diane had decided to go out and get him something for it. The woman loved that mutt so much Will wouldn't be surprised if she got out of bed at this time of night to get him something.

If she did, for tonight, he wouldn't say a thing as long as she was fine.

The dog whined pitifully and Will decided he really needed to find Diane. "Stay," he said to the dog who obediently followed, lying miserably on his side and continued to whimper. He made a mental note to mark this moment as the only time the mutt _ever _listened to him. Justice usually liked trying to take a chunk out of his favorite baseball or, sometimes, his hand.

Straightening up, Will continued to make his way towards the back of the house. With each step he took, each second that passed, he felt the increasing urge to find Diane more. Something had happened and all he wanted was to know she was okay.

Everything inside him screamed danger, all the warning signs telling him that something had gone horribly wrong. The warnings also told him to get out and get help, but he remained steadfast to his goal. He would find Diane and if something was wrong, they'd get the hell out. If she wasn't, then he would have to figure out what to do if he had to.

Will reached the end of the hall and entered into the darkened kitchen. The lights he'd turned on hadn't been enough and once again, Will tried to remember where the switch was. "Diane?" he called again as he felt the walls beside him.

No answer still and just as Will was about to call for her again, he felt the switch and pushed.

Lights illuminated the modernized and always immaculate kitchen. Diane enjoyed cooking and Will had spent a few times at her house for a few dinners and the occasional party and always, even as guests pooled everywhere, the kitchen was neat. Diane was always the perfect hostess.

Tonight though, that would not be the case for as soon as Will could see the room clearly, signs that there was something wrong jumped at him. Her coat was in a messy heap the floor, the one he'd seen her wear only less than an hour before. Her bag lay a few inches way, the contents spilled out everywhere as if someone had dumped them out, but the biggest sign that made Will begin to panic was the bloody knife near the island in the middle of the room.

Swallowing hard, Will forced himself to step closer, moving slightly to the side as he made his way around the island, making sure to avoid stepping into anything that wasn't the floor. Easing closer, the first thing he saw was a hand, the fingers curled and revealing perfectly manicured nails painted a vibrant fire engine red. Right away, he knew whose hand it was.

"Diane!" he raced next to her side, hesitating hands not entirely sure where to land. His mind went back to the blood on the floors and from where he knelt next to her, he could see drops of blood around her body but couldn't find the time to examine them more when there were important matters at hand.

He reached for the pulse point around her neck, pushing her hair aside and breathed in a sign of relief when he found one. "Diane, can you hear me?" he said as he took her state. He feared if he moved her too soon, he might cause more harm than good. "Diane, wake up…come on."

Will pulled out his phone, but his eyes were glued to the large gash on the side of her head and the blood that seeped out of the wound. Her eyes were closed, though he could also see small signs of a bruise beginning to form on the one side of her face that he could see. He dialed 911.

"This is Will Gardner and there's been…something-something's happened," he said into his phone, barely coherent as he did so, his hand landing gently against Diane's bruising cheek, if only to provide some comfort she probably could not even feel. "We're at Barrington Lake and my…she's been hurt. Please, hurry…the—"

"Hey!"

Jumping, Will stopped, wide eyed in surprise as he turned to see a large man standing only a few feet away, effectively blocking the way he'd come in.

"Who the hell are you?"

-o0oo0oo0o-

I have no beta so if there are typos, sorry. I tried editing as much as I possibly could.

Anyway, please, if you have time, please review. I'd love to hear feedback on this story. And hell, yeah, I admit I love reviews. Is that so bad?


	2. Chapter 2: Some Other Guy

**Blackout**  
by: raileht  
**  
****Summary:** It was over. The fight in her was almost completely out and she was nearing total exhaustion. She was about to die.

**Disclaimer: **The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.

**Rating: **T, to be safe  
**Spoilers/Timeline:** post-finale but I've omitted some facts and scenes to better fit the story and you'll figure out which ones I hadn't included along the way. But if you have questions, just ask.

_I've decided that Peter Florrick should still be in jail and dear Mr. Eli Gold—I love Alan Cumming—is still working his butt off trying to get him out. Safe to say, Alicia's time will be a little split just like in the early episodes. But she's already kicked Cary's butt in exchange for helping Peter through the Eli deal…get it? I just moved things around._

******Warning: **Bad words and a lot of violence right from the start. Will be a somewhat dark story so people will be in pain—physical and emotional. Maybe not for the faint hearted.**  
Warning#2: **I've moved for the pacing to be faster here so you might notice scenes jumping. If I give you guys a play by play, we're going to take a while to finish AND that would leave me with a LOT more ways to screw up. Medicine is so not my field, sorry to say, but I will try to make it as accurate and believable as possible.

**Chapter Title taken from:**  
The Beatles, _Some Other Guy_

-o0oo0oo0o-

**Chapter Two: Some Other Guy**

"Who the hell are you?

Will whirled around, ready to fight when he saw a man dressed in a blue jumpsuit, a badge with the logo of Barrington Lake on his chest and a name on top that said, 'Mario.' He held the phone close to his ear as he stared at the man and heard the operator ask if anything was wrong or if he was in danger. When he wasn't able to answer, she instructed that he stay on the line so she could trace the call.

"I'm not asking again, who the hell are you?"

Will's first thought was that this might be the attacker and readied himself for a possible fight, but he saw no sign of injury or blood on the man and decided he hadn't been the one to meet the knife on the floor. And though he loathed doing so, Will turned away from Diane, standing up slowly with his hands as well as his phone raised in front of him in a non-threatening, non-defensive position.

"My name is Will Gardner, this woman," Will said, motioning behind him. "Is my colleague, Diane Lockhart. …something's happened…she's been hurt and I need to wait for the ambulance, they're on their way—"

"What did you do?" Mario accused suddenly, eyes wide as he took in the crumpled body of the woman behind the counter. The horror was clear in his eyes and Will could figure out exactly what the man was beginning to think.

"No! It's not what you think—"

"I'm calling the cops!"

"Yes, go ahead, please!" Will said, ignoring the man as he took out his radio. He turned to focus his attention on Diane, but the loud voice behind him made him stop.

"Stay away from her!" the man in a jumpsuit yelled. "I don't know what happened, buddy, but you're in trouble. Miss Lockhart called and…just stay away from her. Don't make a move."

"You don't _understand_," Will said, exasperated now. "I _work _with her, I'm her colleague. I just came here to talk to her and found her like this!"

"How can I be sure?" Mario asked, obviously torn between letting Will tend to Diane and making him stand stationary in his place. "You-you didn't do this?"

"Same way I know you didn't," Will replied. "You have no blood on you and the same goes with me, but _that _knife there—" he pointed with one hand while the other stayed in position. "Tells me someone got cut pretty deep and I've checked her, she wasn't stabbed."

"O-okay," the man said, sounding almost convinced now. "I-I didn't see anyone. She called but didn't finish and then there was a noise and the line just got cut…"

"It doesn't matter right now," Will cut in. "I just…I need to make sure she's okay until the ambulance gets here. Please."

"Okay. Okay."

Will nodded then turned back to Diane, kneeling down gingerly to place his hand on her cheek again as he took in how she was curled on her side, the blood trickling from the wound near her temple, the bruises that were slowly revealing themselves and the other signs of possible injury.

He had seen his fair share of crime scene photos, of assaults, of bodies and all sorts of gory realities, but he'd never encountered something so personal. He _knew _the victim, spoke to her less than an hour before, _talked _to her and even argued with her. It made his stomach turn and made bile rise to his throat.

"Diane," he said gently, as to not jostle her awake though he was pretty sure it was impossible. "It's Will…wake up, come on."

Remembering the knife once again, he hesitantly began to assess her body to make sure the knife really had not been used on her. Gentle hands traveled over her body slowly to see if there were any source of blood that was hiding but Will was relieved to find nothing. This left him free to worry more about the large wound on her head. Blood had begun to drip onto the floors in a dark red puddle, soaking the locks of hair that lay limply hanging in moist clumps.

"I need some towels!" he ordered to the blubbering man by the entrance of the kitchen. "But watch out for the knife. It's evidence!"

Mario looked around and found one near the refrigerator and grabbed it. He hurried to Will's side, maintaining his distance and gave him the towel, "She called…a few minutes ago, but didn't say what she needed…we thought it was a false alarm but decided to check anyway."

"Yeah," Will grunted as he folded the towel and placed it onto the head wound. "Did anything sound weird? Like, someone else making sounds…?"

"No, one minute she was telling us who she was then she said something like…" Mario paused, "I think Justice and I'm new so I didn't get it at first then Manny said she had a dog named Justice…weird name for a dog."

Will nodded as he pulled the towel away, cursing as he saw the wound that the blood had been covering, "Damn…"

"That's…deep," Mario said quietly as he hovered nearby.

"Tell me you aren't going to faint at the sight of blood," he honestly wouldn't react if the man passed out when he needed to focus on Diane.

"No," the man replied. "I just…she's a nice lady. I met her once."

Will nodded, replacing the towel onto the wound again, dabbing away at the blood slowly, "Yeah, she is…" he held the towel to the wound, trying hard to remember the basic CPR lessons Diane had insisted the entire firm take at least once. "I need to roll her."

"What?"

"I need her on her back so her airway won't be blocked," Will explained, "Help me."

Gently, both of them rolled Diane onto her back with Will supporting her head firmly and Mario stepped back, watching on as Will leaned down, placing his cheek next to her nose and mouth. He felt her warm breath reach his cheek, "She's breathing. Good."

"What now?"

"I need you to wait for the ambulance," Will replied. "Where's your friend Manny?"

"At the main office, near the entrance," Mario replied.

"Tell him to wait for the ambulance at the entrance and help them on the way in," Will instructed. "I don't want them wasting time trying to find us."

"Okay," Mario nodded then left, his radio already in hand.

Will turned to Diane, his hand once more pressing the towel to her wound as he tried to gently rouse her again, shaking her slightly. "Diane. Wake up, it's Will…come on…wake up."

He shook her again, only to get the same result. His frustration tempted him to just grab her and shake her until she woke, but he knew that would be wrong on so many different and harmful levels. He sighed and said her name once more, telling her again to wake up.

She never did.

-o0o-

The loud ringing of her cell phone was enough to pull Kalinda Sharma from her deep sleep and almost automatically as if she'd been waiting by the phone, her hand shot out to her bedside table, grabbing the noisy thing quickly and pressed it to her ear, "Yeah?"

"It's Will. I need you at Diane's," was the less than polite answer. The frantic undertone to her boss's voice was enough to fully rouse the Indian woman. Calls like this were common, but it was never to go to her other boss's house, especially not the one at the lake.

"What's going on?" she asked, wondering what the two partners of the firm could be doing at one o'clock in the morning.

"Someone attacked Diane," Will responded. "We're waiting for the ambulance and its bad, Kalinda. I need you here _right now_. I don't know, find out what you can…do what you can. I need to go with-with the ambulance."

Kalinda was already slipping into a pair of jeans and her coat, boots waiting by the door. Diane Lockhart had been attacked. Immediately, Kalinda already had a suspect in mind, "How is she?"

"Unconscious and she hasn't been awake since I found her," Will explained, the frazzled tone to his normally controlled voice was clear. "I don't know. I just need you here right now."

"I'm on my way," Kalinda said just as she slipped out of the door, bag and keys in hand, her long coat trailing in her wake.

She slipped her phone into her pocket and was in her car in less than a minute, starting the engine and immediately turning on her police scanner. In less than ten seconds, she was tearing down the deserted roads, headed to Barrington Lake.

Kalinda kept her ears out on the scanner, despite the thoughts running through her mind already, her mental checklist filling itself once again, starting from inquiries to who to talk to and who might be on the scene. Sure enough, reports were already being sent to units closest to the lake about a disturbance and a possible break in, which only compelled her to press on to the gas pedal.

It was impossible but she would try to beat the police to the scene. She was still forming the plan in her head, knowing the conflict this case would bring out which would only make the police even more reluctant to share anything. The victim was one of their own, someone Kalinda had ties with, whether personal or professional, it didn't matter, but she didn't care. She was doing her job and that was it.

Diane Lockhart was her boss, but Kalinda wasn't going to take this case to heart. She was a professional and objectivity was not a problem. She could take her emotions out easy, that is _if _she had any. The woman was pleasant, a good boss and made an excellent role model, but apart from a few personal things and small chats, Kalinda knew little of the woman. They could be friends, but they were more acquaintances in reality.

In her mind, Kalinda was willing to believe that she would not be affected enough to lose focus on the case over 'emotional ties' because, from what she could imagine, she didn't have much. Of course, she felt _bad _that something had happened to Diane, but she wasn't really going lose her mind over it. She could still work through the case without her judgment being clouded.

She thought back on that day when she had convinced the legacy-ridden woman. Diane had looked torn between taking the right to defend herself and sticking to what she'd been taught to believe and accept growing up. Kalinda thought it foolish, sacrificing one's safety for beliefs, but she later wondered how difficult it must have been to have lived such a structured life.

In the thick of things, was Diane ever really given the_ choice_ to be what she wanted or had her life already been mapped out before she could even decide for herself?

The woman was weighed heavily down by her family's legacy and Kalinda wondered had she not been born from one of the oldest Democratic families in Chicago, would she still have the same beliefs? Would she be so against guns? She'd never know and she wasn't one to dwell, but still, Kalinda wondered how different things could have been if Diane had been given the chance to be whatever she chose to be without her family's past hanging over her.

_Who knows?_

Shaking her head, Kalinda chastised herself for veering off track while making her check list. She pressed her sleek black leather boot on the gas once more and Kalinda found herself shaking her head and muttering, "Should've kept the gun."

Maybe things would have turned out differently tonight.

-o0o-

The ride to the hospital had been a blur for Will though, being a lawyer, he paid rapt attention to what the paramedics were doing while he held on to Diane's hand. Her fingers had been cold, but Will wasn't sure if they really were or his hands were just warmer than hers. At that moment, he wasn't sure of anything.

"Pulse is eighty-nine, BP one-hundred and thirty-four over eighty…possible head trauma," he heard someone declare as they began pushing the gurney through the Emergency Room, running close behind them. It was fairly late, and though it was Chicago, there were only a few people in that night. "Pulse ox…"

Will followed as far as he could until a nurse managed to block his path, telling him that he wasn't allowed inside. She mentioned some forms and when she asked Will if he was family, he merely nodded, knowing that if he confessed he wasn't, there was no way he was ever going to know about Diane's condition.

God only knew where Diane's family was at the moment, Will honestly couldn't remember since he only ever remembered seeing a few of them for the holidays. The last thing Will could remember hearing about her brother was that he was somewhere in Greece. He would have to contact someone, most likely Diane's assistant Annie, about reaching him.

Pulling out his phone, Will began to dial for Annie, when his phone began to ring, "Anything?"

"I got here after the police, but I managed to find out a few things, " Kalinda replied. "There were no signs of forced entry, but the alarm system was jammed and they found a bloody knife, some blood on the stairs, the kitchen and in on the back door of the house, some overturned furniture. Nothing much, but the forensics team already started on the house."

"We left Justice—"

"Animal control has him, but if they can patch him up, he can come home, but…"

"I know," Will nodded. "We'll do something about that later, but any possible suspects?"

"None yet, but…"

"What?"

"Has Diane told you anything in the last few weeks?"

"Like what?"

"Anything," Kalinda replied. "Suspects getting out? Former convicts?"

"What? No," Will said with a frown, "Why? Did she mention anything to you?"

"Hold on, I have to talk to Tobin," Kalinda said instead of answering. "I'll keep you posted."

The investigator hung up, leaving Will staring at his phone with a frown. Diane had not mentioned anything to him, but Will wondered if it was possible if she might have said anything to Kalinda. He'd have to find out, but at the moment, a call to Annie was still in order.

"Annie? It's Will, I know it's late," he said into the phone as a woman's sleepy voice answered. "But I need you to get Diane's spare bag of clothes at the office. I know she keeps a bag there for emergencies, we need it and if you have on file her medical history, we need those too. We're at Mercy Grace right now…yes, something happened, I just…Annie…Annie…An—Calm down. We need those _now_, please…thank you…okay. Of course…let me know if you're here. I'm in the waiting room of the ER. Thank you."

Realizing he was standing in the middle of practically empty ER, Will grabbed the clipboard the nurse had left for him on the counter and headed towards the set of plastic seats in the waiting area. Sighing deeply, Will sat down, leaning his head back against the wall as he closed his eyes. With the adrenaline rush he'd been riding on through the whole ordeal beginning to wane, he was suddenly feeling quite drained.

He balanced the clipboard on his lap, while he ran his hands through his hair, blinking repeatedly to keep his eyes focused. It was only then where he noticed he was still wearing today's suit that consisted of his usual white button down, a dark blue tie and a sport jacket. Feeling constricted, Will loosened his tie clumsily, pulling it from his neck then popping the top button of his shirt before grabbing the clipboard again.

Will began rubbing his temple as he made sure to answer only the ones he truly knew. There would be no room for guesswork in medical records, especially since it wasn't his. He would have to consult and maybe leave the rest with Annie. She'd been with Diane long enough, it would only make sense she'd know more about her boss's medical history.

Glancing at the clock on the wall on the wall above the nurse's station, Will breathed in deeply as his body deflated once again. Only a few hours more until sunrise, but he knew it didn't matter. It was always in moments like this when time stopped mattering because the seconds would feel like minutes, the minutes like hours and the hours like endless days. It was inescapable and tedious and Will wanted nothing more than to bend time forward. The impossible, it seems, was what people always wanted and Will Gardner was no different.

He tugged on his tie impatiently again.

It was going to be a long night.

-o0o-

Annie Clawson hurried through the doors of the Mercy Grace Hospital, her boss' Louis Vuitton bag hanging on one shoulder that contained a set of clothes and a folder with her medical history. After receiving the call from Will Gardner, she had stumbled right out of bed, pulled a sweater and jeans on, her coat and rushed on to the firm. She didn't have all the facts yet, but she was sure it had to be serious. Her boss tended to avoid hospitals unless she _absolutely _had to go. This was, after all, the same woman who came into work with a fever of one hundred and two.

She'd been with the firm for last two years and though at the beginning Annie had had her reservations, she had learned to truly appreciate working for Diane Lockhart. The woman was focused, driven and made a habit of pushing for excellent results. And in the last two years, Annie had learned more than she had ever hoped to working as an assistant. Diane was a great boss who treated her underlings with discipline, fairness and, most importantly, respect. Most, if not all, of the time she made Annie want to be _like _her.

The first time she had come through the doors of Stern, Lockhart and Gardner, Annie had already heard the whispers about the sole female partner of the firm. Diane Lockhart was known for her unmatched talents in the courtroom, but among the assistants, she was also known for having high standards and for being a perfectionist.

Two years back, the then-post grad and completely nerve-wrecked Annie had stepped into the elevator leading up to the Executive floor of the building where the top floors housed the offices of the partners, the movers and shakers, and the hard-hitters of the firm. The elevator was already occupied then by a woman wearing a red dress and a pair of designer shades, fingers tapping her at cell phone and an expensive handbag hanging on one arm.

"I'm here already, Jen," Annie was saying into her phone. Jenny had been the one to suggest she try the job at the firm. "I know. I know. I gotta go. I'll lose you in the elevator. I'll tell you how it goes…and no, it probably won't be a nightmare…just nightmar_ish_." She hung up, sighing and pressing the button for the top floor, failing to notice it was already on.

"Heading to the firm upstairs?" a woman had asked casually as she stood from behind Annie.

"Mhm," Annie said, flashing the woman an uneasy smile. "I have an interview."

"You're a lawyer?"

"No," Annie replied. "One of the partners lost an assistant and my friend recommended me."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I was just talking to her on the phone," Annie nodded. "I just got out of college and realized I don't know what to do with my degree…sorry, that's too much information. I think I'm just kind of nervous."

"How come?" the woman didn't seem bothered to be chatting with a stranger which made sense because she had been the one to initiate it.

"Well…" Annie sighed. "The partner that needs the new assistant…well, some friends told me about her. She's quite intimidating…" she glanced at the woman behind her.

"She?" the woman had asked, a perfectly shaped eyebrow rising up.

"Lockhart," Annie supplied, "Diane Lockhart. She's one of the partners."

"And she needs a new assistant why?"

"I'm not sure," Annie shrugged. "There were rumors she just up and quit…I heard Miss Lockhart could be…demanding."

"Really?" the woman smiled a little. "Regular boss bitch?"

"I honestly don't know," Annie sighed. "I've never met her and my friend says it's not _all _true, but I'm nervous anyway. Maybe she's just a tough boss."

"I'm sure you'll do fine."

"Here's hoping," Annie said then. "Someone even said her standards could be nightmarish so I'm not holding my hopes up."

"Mhm…She's the only female partner?"

"Yes," Annie nodded. "I think it's pretty cool."

"Yes…_cool_. A girl in the boys club. I can imagine that could be…_interesting_."

Annie smiled, "Yeah. Which is one of the biggest reasons why I took this chance at the job…she must be something." The bell dinged signaling that they'd reached the Executive floor, "Oh, you're headed here too?"

"Mhm," the woman smiled then, just as the doors opened, she stepped off without another word. Annie took her time getting off, wondering who the woman had been then shrugged her off, deciding she must have been a client of the firm. She looked like she could afford the services of the place anyway.

Besides, she had her first meeting with her possible future boss. She had to collect herself and focus if she wanted to make a good impression. Then again, did she really? Annie wasn't even sure if she could hack working for someone so _concentrated_ on work.

Heading towards the desk, Annie had asked for the directions towards the partners' offices. She'd lost track of where the other woman had gone and had already pushed her to the back of her mind. She entered the office she'd been directed to and as she stepped into the small lobby of the opposing offices of Lockhart and Gardner, a brunette met her at the doors with a smile.

"You must be Annie," she smiled. "I'm Kate, Will Gardner's assistant. Miss Lockhart just came in, but you can wait inside her office. She just stepped in to talk to Mr. Gardner," she motioned to the office on the right. "She'll be right with you."

Annie smiled uneasily, "Wish me luck."

She stepped into the immaculate office on the left and immediately Annie knew Diane Lockhart was a woman with style. The understated yet tasteful style of the office was hard to miss and—

Annie froze.

On the table behind the desk was a picture of a woman with Hilary Clinton and, to Annie's horror, she looked almost like the woman in the elevator. Almost…?

_Oh my…god._

Swallowing hard, Annie stared at the photograph, wondering if _maybe _it wasn't the same woman. _Maybe _they just happened to have a great likeness since, after all, Annie hadn't seen the woman's entire face with the sunglasses. The woman on the picture almost looked too formal, maybe almost stoic standing next to the former First Lady of the United States. She had the same hair color, same facial structure, but Annie couldn't (didn't want to be) sure.

She stared, examining the photo from her position almost across the room and just as she decided to leave and try her luck at another job, she heard the doors behind her open. She felt the swoosh of air behind her and she _literally _felt a tingle go up her spine.

Annie jump, turning immediately and found herself face to face with the woman she'd just met _and _blabbed too. _Oh, god._ What did she say to her? Suddenly she was experiencing some sort of sudden selective memory amnesia. What did she say to her? God, she could _not _remember. _What did she say? _Annie waited, not sure what to expect, but as the woman began taking off her sunglasses she could have sworn her heart stopped beating.

"Hi," she smiled as she crossed the room, long elegant legs peeking out of the chic and very flattering red dress and Annie could have sworn she hadn't been _that _tall in the elevator. She held out a hand, her long well manicured nails matching her dress perfectly.

"I'm Diane Lockhart," she smiled wider, baring her teeth and Annie felt like she was the wounded tiny _weak_ gazelle of the pack about to be ravaged by a predator. "Annie, right?"

She could barely nod.

"Please, sit," she motioned to the seat Annie didn't even know she'd risen from. "My previous assistant quit the other day. She decided to marry her much too eager fiancé in Italy. It's lovely there this time of year."

"Uh…" Annie managed to croak out as the woman took her seat behind the desk, placing her cell phone the table and cradling her chin in one hand.

She smiled wider at Annie, "Something tells me we have a _lot _to talk about."

Annie was forever thankful she managed to stop the urge to faint right then.

Stepping into the waiting room of the ER, Annie immediately spotted Will Gardner slumped on a plastic seat, his sport coat draped messily over his folded arms, legs stretched out in front of him, eyes closed and a clipboard on his chest. Glancing at the nurse's desk, she made her way to the sleeping man, quietly placing Diane's bag on the coffee table in front of the seats.

"Mr. Gardner?" she said quietly, shaking the man gently. "Sir?"

She shook him again and, out of nowhere, he suddenly jumped, his body propelling forward, eyes wide and taking a loud deep breath that sounded like a gasp. He looked disoriented for a moment, looking around hurriedly before his eyes fell on her. She felt guilty startling him like that, seeing just how exhausted he looked.

"Annie!" he sighed, pushing his body up and glancing at the clock on the wall. "You're here."

"I brought her bag and her medical history," she said, motioning to the bag and pulling out a maroon folder. "It's her medical history, updated and including her last physical."

"Good, good," Will said, rubbing the back of his neck as he flipped open the folder. The medical history was thorough and, as Annie mentioned, on the last page was Diane's last physical, the one that was mandatory to all SLG employees every year. "Who has her power of attorney?"

"That would be her brother," Annie answered dutifully.

"Dan?"

"Er, yes, sir," Annie replied, looking confused. "Does she have other siblings, Mr. Gardner?"

"Uh, no," Will said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I'm just…tired, that's all."

"But I think you should know you're also listed as the alternate, in any event that Mr. Lockhart can't make it," she added.

"Of course," he ran his hand through his hair, "By the way, I know you need your sleep—"

"No, it's okay," Annie interrupted. "I'm awake now and I won't be able to go back to bed…and I want to take care of things, make sure no balls get dropped while Miss Lockhart's…uh, going through her recovery."

"I'm sure she'll appreciate that," Will nodded. "And so do I," he paused, "Anyway, I—_we _ need to contact Dan, let him know what happened. He'll want to know and being her power of attorney, I think its best we get him here. Do you have any way to contact him?"

Annie thought for a moment, "If he's not in her contact list, maybe I can check through her files at the office. Normally she doesn't discuss her brother, but I think under these circumstances…maybe she wouldn't mind?"

Will agreed, "She'll have to understand, but at the moment—"

His eyes caught the clock once more and by Will's calculation, he was surprised to find out he'd been out for at least half an hour. He hadn't even been aware he'd dozed and now he wondered if he may have missed something. Didn't anyone try to wake him? How long has it been since they'd rushed Diane in? What the hell was happening? Will immediately pushed himself up, despite his protesting body and raised his hand as Annie began to ask questions. With enough energy, he managed to walk properly towards the nurses' station.

"Excuse me," he said gruffly. "A Diane Lockhart was brought in about two hours ago…?"

"She's still in surgery," the nurse replied politely. "But I can't release information unless you're a family member. I'm sorry."

"I'm—we're family," he said simply. "I filled out the forms and her assistant is here with her medical files, history and such." He waved Annie over, motioning for the folders.

"Okay, Mr…"

"Gardner," he supplied as Annie handed him a folder which he submitted to the nurse.

The nurse smiled, opening the file, "William Gardner…you're listed as Miss Lockhart's emergency contact. Is that correct?"

"Yes," Will nodded. "Now, please. Is there any way to know her condition?"

"As said, she's still in surgery and they will determine whether her injuries caused severe damage," she tapped away on her computer again. "She has a broken wrist, some bruising, but at the moment they're focusing on determining whether she sustained severe head trauma or whether there's internal bleeding. If you'll wait, I'm sure the doctor will be in to update you on her status as soon as possible."

Will nodded, "Okay. That would be…good. Thank you."

"Anything?" Annie asked as they returned to their previous seats.

"Nothing yet," Will muttered. "She's still in surgery."

Annie nodded, "Sir, if you don't mind me asking…what happened?"

"I'm not sure yet," Will admitted, closing his eyes as the scene replayed involuntarily in his mind. "I came by her house at the lake and found her in the kitchen, unconscious and there was blood, some signs of disturbance…someone attacked her."

"Do they have a suspect?" Annie looked mortified. Someone had attacked her boss? But who? It was almost too surreal.

Diane was one of the most well known lawyers in the Chicago and was also one of the most visible figures of the firm. It was expected she would have enemies, but there had never been any signs that she was in any actual danger, that someone would actually _try _to physically harm her. Annie would know if there was a threat, wouldn't she? Practically everything that went to Diane went through to her first.

If there had been a warning, she would have known.

"None yet, but Kalinda's on it," Will replied, leaning back in his seat again and casting his eyes heavenward. "She'll let me know if she finds—"

He stopped as his phone began to ring, "Talk to me."

"A member of the forensic are on their way there," Kalinda answered. "They're going to gather evidence from Diane, but from what I hear, she's still in surgery."

"Yeah. We haven't heard anything yet."

"They'll probably pick up the things Diane came in with," Kalinda said. "Her clothes, jewelry and everything else that might have retained something of the attacker's…I'm not sure about your clothes if they'll admit it into evidence but you know they just might."

"All right," Will said, "I'll talk to them. Did you find anything else?"

"Nothing so far," Kalinda replied. "The fact that I work for the victim—" Will couldn't help but flinch at the word, realizing how much it _didn't _fit Diane—"the police are more hesitant in sharing things."

"But you got someone on the inside, right?"

"Yes," she said in a low voice. "So far it looks like a home invasion, but they're looking into things, canvassing the neighborhood and such. Barrington Lake is a pretty secure community. This doesn't usually happen here."

"This is gonna be big, isn't it?"

"Yes, most likely," Kalinda paused, "How bad was she?"

"She was unconscious when I found her," he summarized. "She sustained a head injury and they're trying to see if it's caused some internal damage. A broken wrist, a few bruises. I'm not sure of the rest."

"Were you able to wake her up, even for a bit?"

"No," Will sighed, a habit he seemed to be developing in just one night. "I tried, but I couldn't…" He rolled his head to the side, "It's insane. I keep thinking that if I'd just—"

"Don't do that," Kalinda said and he could imagine the look on her face. "It won't help you or Diane. What's done is done. The best thing we can do is figure out who is responsible and how to stop it from happening again."

"You're right," he nodded. "I'm just exhausted."

"Have you slept?"

"For half an hour," he confessed. "In the most_ comfortable _chair I've ever had the misfortune to encounter…I came straight from the firm when I went to see Diane."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why were you coming to see Diane?" she asked. She was sure their relationship was professional, the two remaining partners, but one could never be sure. Coming to someone's house past midnight was never always so innocent.

"I needed to talk to her."

"At past midnight?"

"Yes," Will nodded, wondering how exactly he'd come under his employee's interrogation. "What are you getting at?"

"I'm trying to get a picture of what happened tonight," she replied, calmly. "I need to know everything, the whole truth."

"We spent most of the night talking about her new case," Will answered. "We said some things, she left and I thought I'd go to her and settle things before it got complicated."

"The police will want to talk to you," Kalinda told him after a short moment. "They're wondering about what you were doing here so late. They've even inquired if you have a relationship outside the office. I thought it best to stay out of it so I didn't say anything."

"I'll handle it," Will said. "Just…get me something. I want to know what happened and who would do this."

"Alright."

"Kalinda?"

"You were asking about possible suspects," it was his turn to ask questions. "Has Diane said anything? To _you_?"

"You'll have to talk to her about that."

"I would," he answered. "But unconscious people don't always make the best conversations."

"It's not my position to say anything she told me in confidence," Kalinda answered, as always unaffected by his sarcasm. "And you can't convince me otherwise."

"Kalinda—"

"I have to go," she cut in. "The forensic team just stepped out with their evidence. You take care of your end and I'll do the same with mine. I'll keep you posted."

"Kal—" he tried again, but she'd already hung up. What had Diane said to her? And if it was possibly related to what might have happened tonight, why hadn't Diane said anything to_ him_? Surely, if Diane felt she was in danger she would confide in him. Wouldn't she?

His mind flashed to the last few weeks, _tense _weeks around the firm.

'_So it's the wild west, isn't it? Without Stern, you have one vote, I have one vote. And now it's every man for himself?"_

What had he said? That had been another tense week and they'd dealt with Colin Sweeney then. Diane had opposed, as he expected she would. What did he say? He'd been annoyed with her then, how she was interfering when he was doing his best to make more money for the firm. She'd spent most of her day harassing gun manufacturers because of her opposition against guns. It had been a waste of billable time, money and resources.

He'd been tired of her bleeding heart feministic causes and he let it show just as she let her displeasure be known at having a wife-murderer in their client list.

"_Looks like it_."

He'd seen the acceptance in her eyes, the understanding even when he had expected her to be defiant and angry, _"We're headed into a bad time."_

Will remained impassive, unaffected because he was a good lawyer, a brilliant liar and full of shit. He was good at showing bravado whether false or not. He was a rock.

His mind skipped to another memory and this time, the raised voices—mostly his—began to echo his head. The scene was a close preview of what had occurred between him and Diane only hours ago. They'd been doing that type of scene for a while now.

"_Did it even occur to you to tell me?"_

"_No, it didn't. I was under the mistaken impression that it was _my _life!"_

"_It's your life when it doesn't impact _our_ clients!"_

"_It _didn't_ impact our clients!"_

Did Diane mistake that to mean he'd only care if their cases were on the line? He'd been angry, furious even, for what had happened, but it didn't mean he'd stopped caring. She had slept with a witness whose credibility was easily shattered by that damning fact alone, he had a right to be angry, but that was professional. The personal stayed outside of the office and that was an entirely different matter.

Diane knew that, didn't she?

"_If you had just _told me—_if you'd just given me a _SIGN_!"_

They'd been behaving indifferently towards each other. Some nights, during the better workdays, it ended with a smile, some with drinks and even some chats. But the nights where she left without a word, came in the same way the next morning, the bad days, far outnumbered the better days. They'd been fighting constantly, the pressures of keeping the doors open—a common goal from their two seemingly different sides—and they were both truly capable of taking it out on each other.

Who else were they supposed to take it out on?

He was quick to cut and so was she. They knew each other so well, they could make each other laugh endlessly, but that _ability_ was akin to a double edged sword. While they could induce small shots of happiness and laughter in each other's lives, they also knew just where to cut, to hit to injure and incapacitate each other _emotionally_. They knew which side to hit in order to cause the most amount of pain, knew exactly what would make the other falter and ultimately bleed.

In the heat of the moment, they tended to forget the consequences so they lashed out the best way they could. They hurt each other. What else was there to do?

"Mr. Gardner?"

Annie's soft voice pulled him away from his thoughts and Will looked up. He saw a doctor coming out, wearing mint green scrubs and pulling his surgical hat off. A nurse followed close behind and immediately, he made his way to Will and Annie.

The look on the doctor's face was unreadable and Will felt cold hands grip his spine. He'd never been much of an optimist, not in instances like this anyway.

"Will Gardner?"

"Yes," Will stood up.

"I'm Dr. Nolan," the older graying man said with a slight nod. "I was the surgeon on duty when Miss Lockhart was brought in. I understand you were the one who found her?"

"Yes," Will answered. "She was unconscious. How is she?"

"She's doing well," the doctor said with a slight smile and Will felt relief wash over him instantly. "We had to operate to remove a bleed that was beginning to form internally and Dr. Montgomery took care of her broken wrist and she will be coming in to put a more permanent cast on it later and we've taken care of her various other injuries."

"What other injuries?"

"Sprained ankle, a few bruised ribs," the doctor enumerated. "Facial damage were minimal, just a cut on her cheek and bruising extending to her neck. They'll fade in time. The only major problem we encountered was her head injury. I understand she was attacked…"

Will nodded.

"I consider her to be very lucky," Dr. Nolan said. "Sadly, I've seen things like this before and believe me when I say things could have turned out a lot worse. Now, we're not sure about the damages the injury might bring after she wakes up, but we've taken care of the bleed. We're going to have to ask her to stay at least a day or two just to make sure there won't be any nasty surprises along the way. I'd prefer to observe her here since I've been informed she lives out at Barrington Lake."

"I'll talk to her," he would and she would argue, but there would be no discussion. She had a house in the city but Will wasn't about to risk her health by letting her out too early. This was one argument Will was not going to let her win.

"It's a good thing you were able to find her quickly, Mr. Gardner," the doctor commented. "When we checked her, the internal bleeding was only at the early stages. We were able to stop it quite easily and that helped minimized any possible effects it might have caused."

"That's…good to know."

"It _is_. Physically, I expect her to make full recovery," Dr. Nolan said. "Miss Lockhart is a fighter. If all else proves to be clear then I can assure you that she'll be able to get through this with as little physical reminders as possible."

Will nodded, slowly. "Emotionally?"

"Sad to say, an altogether different matter," the doctor said, looking genuinely apologetic. "The few patients who went through the same trauma managed to get some assistance, someone who helped them deal with the ordeal."

"Like a therapist?" _That_ would _really _go over well with Diane. Yes, he could imagine it clearly. She would _love _that. He might as well ask her to quit her career and be a Vegas showgirl.

"Something like that," the doctor nodded. "It helps as long as it's somewhat welcomed and not forced. I can recommend a few names later if you'd like. Now, we'll be transferring Miss Lockhart as soon as her room is ready. If you'll just wait a little longer, you'll be able to see her soon. Mind you, she's still sleeping and she'll need her rest so patience is in order."

"Of course."

"Oh, and you might want to call someone named Matthew," the doctor said, as if he'd just remembered before turning away and heading back into the operating room.

"What?"

"Before we could administer anesthesia, Miss Lockhart managed to come around for a few seconds," Dr. Nolan informed. "Called for someone named Matthew…seemed rather anxious to see him before we put her under."

"She doesn't…" Will began to say then shook his head, "We'll take care of it."

"Of course."

"Thank you, Dr. Nolan."

Will turned to Annie, who had managed to stay quiet through the whole thing. Her brows were furrowed this time not just out of worry buy it was him who managed to ask what they were both thinking.

"Who's Matthew?"

-o0o-

With more important matters at hand like finding Daniel Archer Lockhart III, Annie and Will mutually decided that whoever this Matthew person was, they'd just have to ask Diane about it later, or better yet, wait for her to ask for him again. From their point of view, Diane had asked for him in what they deduced was a state of confusion. For all they knew it was just some random person she had important business with. The best course, they decided, was to wait it out and move on. They had to prioritize.

So Annie did just that.

"Hi, this is Annie and I work with Diane Lockhart. I was wondering if there's a Daniel Lockhart there? I'm calling about his sister and it's imperative that I reach him…" Annie trailed off as yet another side of the call claimed not to know where her boss' brother was. She suppressed a sigh, "Oh, okay. But if you could just let him know I called? Tell him he can reach me in this number. Yes, thank you."

She hung up, letting out a breath as her third call failed once again. Without her boss' phone and the list containing all her contacts, Annie was flying blind in finding her brother. In her own phone alone, Daniel had at least five different numbers from all over the world. Her latest call had been to Paris at a woman's home. She claimed having not seen Daniel for six months now.

"Not easy tracking him down, huh?" Will commented from his seat, head cradled back by his interlaced fingers behind his head. His tie was long gone, stuffed into the pocket of Diane's bag and his sport coat was draped neatly over the seat beside him.

"I'd say no," Annie replied. "I've made calls to Paris, Greece and Italy. All three women, all of them claiming to not having seen him for at least three months now…"

Will chuckled the suggested, "Maybe it's time to try across the Atlantic?"

"He's never called from _here _before," she pointed out. "There was a time he was somewhere in Asia, but that was a year ago."

"You have no contact with him _here_?"

"Not me," Annie shrugged. "He comes by for Christmas, I think, but he doesn't stay more than a couple of days. Just drops by with a gift for Miss Lockhart then leaves. Have they always been like that?"

"For as long as I've known Diane, yes," Will nodded. "I didn't even know she had a brother until two years after I became a senior partner."

"Are they in the middle of some family feud or something?" Annie had always been curious but never found the nerve to ask. This was her chance.

"No, at least it didn't look like it when I saw them together," he shrugged. "Diane wants Dan here, but for some reason he can't stay or doesn't want to. He's a wanderer, travels a lot."

"Does he have a job or anything?"

"He was a lawyer like Diane _once upon a time_, but stopped after two years of practice. Packed up and moved away and by the time he was thirty, he was skipping all over the globe," he explained. "Their father, Daniel Archer Lockhart II, left a pretty hefty trust fund for each of them and, from what I gather Dan's got some sort of business in New York that pretty much runs itself or maybe his staff. I think he writes too, under a nom de plume."

"Man of many talents?" Annie smiled. Sounded like a Lockhart trait.

"You could say that," Will said with a slight wave of his hand and checked his watch, "Shouldn't they be done transferring her by now?"

"I'll check," Annie volunteered then walked off, leaving Will to wonder about Diane's brother. Where exactly was Dan? He usually stayed in Europe, seemingly comfortable putting the Atlantic between him and Diane, but with the numbers Annie had, how could he not be in at least one of them? Was it possible Dan was in America _now_? God knew Will knew little to nothing when it came to the elusive male Lockhart.

"They were about to move her, but the forensic team arrived," Annie informed and handed him a cup of coffee. "Its hospital slop, but I think for now it'll have to do."

"I look that bad, huh?"

Annie smiled, "Yeah."

"Where are they right now?" he asked. He needed to be there, the lawyer side of him contested.

"In an exam room," Annie pointed. "They're just taking evidence, the basic ones since there, uhm," she shifted uncomfortably in one foot to another, "wasn't any…signs of sexual assault."

Will nodded then stood up, "I'll be right back. Thanks, Annie and if you could just keep trying to reach Daniel again? I think he'd want to know about this."

If it had been his sibling, he'd want to be informed too. In fact, he'd beat hell and high waters to get there as fast as possible.

"I'll try, if I don't get anything, I'll have to go to the office and check there," she sighed.

"Sure," he nodded then walked off. "Let me know."

Cup in hand, Will made his way to the exam room Annie pointed. Dr. Nolan stood just outside, arms crossed over his chest. "Dr. Nolan?"

The doctor turned, startled. "Mr. Gardner."

"I heard the forensic team just got here."

"Oh, yes," the doctor said, shaking his head slightly. "We were just about to transfer her, but they arrived just in time. They're good at that."

"Slow night," Will commented as he sipped his coffee then noted he should thank Annie for knowing how he liked his coffee. It was hospital coffee, but it was okay. He was sure he's drank worst before.

"Yes, leaves me time to follow up on Miss Lockhart," the old doctor nodded.

Will nodded, "So, what's going on in there?"

"My team managed to deduce that she had some evidence on her, mainly some DNA under her fingernails—hers are long, after all and she used them to defend herself, most likely. The forensic team is inside, collecting them right now. From what I've been informed of, she might have drawn blood with her nails."

Will flinched, stopping himself too late. "That's all they're taking?"

"Her personal effects are being taken in as well, as I'm sure they'll inform you when they speak with you," the doctor nodded. "Her power of attorney is under her brother's name?"

"Yes, Daniel."

"Where is he?"

"We're trying to reach him," Will admitted. "He…hasn't been home for a while now. I'm the alternate…in any event he doesn't make it here."

"You'll be in charge in making decisions while Mr. Lockhart is out?"

"Most probably yes," Will nodded.

"We only had time for an X-ray in the beginning," the doctor explained. "I wanted to get her on the table as soon as possible to stop any further damage, but I think it would be advisable if she undergoes an MRI or a CT scan to make sure nothing else is going on. Will you consent to that in any event she doesn't wake up soon enough?"

Will thought for a moment, "This is a safer approach?"

"I'd say yes," the doctor nodded. "She had quite a, uh, fall. It wouldn't hurt to take precautions."

Will nodded, "Then we can do it. I just want to make sure she's fine."

"Very well," the doctor nodded. "Looks like my new favorite patient will be well looked after."

Will managed a small humorless smile as he drank his coffee.

-o0o-

"I thought my orders were clear."

"She fought me," he muttered, groaning slightly as he clutched his arm. "What was I supposed to do, let her hit me?"

"Yes."

"I'm not that fucked up," he muttered to himself. "Listen, I need a doctor. The bitch cut me pretty deep. She _fucking_ stabbed _me_!"

"As well as you deserved," was the reply, clearly lacking in sympathy. "You go to a doctor now, they're going to put you back where you came from. You might as well go to the police and confess. They'll be nicer."

"It hurts, damn it…"

"Suck it up."

"Like that'll help," he growled. "Look, I didn't _have_ a choice. She had a _knife_!"

"Your instructions were clear."

"Jesus H. Christ," he moaned, "I'm bleeding."

"I can see that."

"Aren't you going to help?"

"This is a pretty expensive suit."

"Fuck you."

"You clearly did not follow my _specific_ instructions," the words were spoken softly, almost in whispers. "Now I'm afraid our contract has been…violated."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he growled, too preoccupied to pay attention to what was happening around him. "I'm still getting my money."

"I don't think you understood what I just said."

"You're right. I didn't."

"Then let me make this clearer…"

He looked up just in time to see a leather clad hand pull out a gun with a silencer attached in place and immediately, he scrambled back against the door of the driver's seat. "What the fuck do you think—"

"I'd say it was a pleasure…"

"What? NO! Come on, man! We can _talk _about this!"

What should have been a loud explosion was muffled by the suppressor, the light flash in the darkened vehicle flashing like a newly lit match and a second later, it was over.

"…but that would be a lie."

Heavily sprayed brain matter spattered against the sealed windows, trickles of blood slowly making their way down the cool glass surface. Eyes wide open in frozen fear were slowly closed by the same gloved hands that pulled the trigger. The neat hole, a little off center of the man's forehead, could easily be spotted, making no room for doubt that what was once a man was now a corpse.

Stepping into the cool night air, the second occupant easily slipped out of the passenger's seat, tossing the gun carelessly inside before stalking off into the night. A few hundred yards away, another car started and the dimmed lights came to life. The car began a slow crawl as it made its way to the walking lone figure.

"Home," was all he said as he slipped into the vehicle.

The car drove off, leaving behind a battered blue Chevy and a body in its wake.

-o0oo0oo0o-

_Oh! Looky,_ I gave Diane** a brother**. There's more, just wait for it.

For those who were irked about the **Kalinda POV**, I'd like to inform you that _I'm still developing her character _so, yes, whatever personal feelings she might/might not have for Diane will still be developed in the coming chapters. Trust me, if I didn't write it, I'd react too.

And I seriously tried to keep this short-obviously failed big time-and it may not have been as exciting as chapter one, I promise the story will pick up. I've still got something waiting for Will. And a bunch of** new characters **to introduce into the fold…

And **McVeigh** too. I kinda liked him…they were cute together. Yes, I used 'cute' on Diane Lockhart and Kurt McVeigh. Sue me. *laughs like an idiot*

Again, I love reviews. _Hint, hint…_

_**Note:**_

_** To Ellie978  
**_I was trying to find if you have an actual account here so I could at least reply to you, but couldn't find one. I wanted to thank you for reviewing my stories. So kind of you to take the time to do so. I'll be writing more Diane stories, don't worry, and I'm so glad you liked my exploration of Will and Diane's relationships. I hope you'll keep reading as I intend to keep writing! Thank you again, you've_ all_ been wonderful.

_**To everyone who reviewed  
**_If I neglected to reply to anyone who submitted a signed review, please let me know. I'd feel terrible if I missed anyone! If it happened to you, please believe me that it was unintended. I'd like to thank you all for reviewing. I love reviews and feedback so thank you so much. I'm very glad there are people who actually like my work.

**_To those who read my story  
_**Thank you. More to come, I promise! I'm sorry the update was so late.**_ Will truly try to update sooner next time. _**Still trying to get used to fanfic writing.****


	3. Chapter 3: Good Morning, Good Morning

**Blackout**  
by: raileht

******Summary:** It was over. The fight in her was almost completely out and she was nearing total exhaustion. She was about to die.**  
Disclaimer: **The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.

**Rating: **T, to be safe

**Spoilers/Timeline:** post-finale but I've omitted some facts and scenes to better fit the story and you'll figure out which ones I hadn't included along the way. But if you have questions, just ask.**  
Warning: **Bad words and a lot of violence right from the start. Will be a somewhat dark story so people will be in pain—physical and emotional. Maybe not for the faint hearted.

**Chapter Title taken from:**  
"Singin' in the Rain"  
Gene Kelly  
Debbie Reynolds  
and Donald O'Conner,_  
Good Morning_

-o0oo0oo0o-

**Chapter Three: Good Morning, Good Morning**

"Damn," Kalinda hissed.

A local TV newscaster was already straightening up his tie while his cameraman was setting up equipment a few feet away from the crime scene tapes that had been lined up along the house. Kalinda stood off too the side, managing well to hide her distaste as various other neighbors were already converging to see what had happened in their otherwise quiet community. Women in robes standing close to each other, some next to men who were obviously their spouses stood whispering to each other, some eyes wide with curiosity, others with that distinct look of fear.

The circus was already starting to begin and in a few more minutes, Kalinda was sure there were going to be other news vans, more people and a lot more nosy neighbors who would congregate near Diane's house. They'll question each other, share stories and even share the most minute and useless details with each other. Some would be aired, some published and, effectively, Diane's privacy would be completely shattered.

Soon more cameras would come, clicking away at her life and what had just taken place. Press would come from all directions and surround not only the house, but also the Lockhart family home in the city as well as the firm. They'll bombard anyone related to "the victim" and pester anyone to get an answer. Lawyers and employees were going to be bothered, cases disrupted and likely, clients will be tempted to think about switching to another _less _exciting firm.

It was bad enough what the woman had gone through, the rest of hell would be hot on her heels, trying to find out exactly what happened and why. Some would sneer along the lines of _'Who is she? Oh, that lawyer—Ah, now I'm not surprise. _Lawyers_, really! I'm surprised it hasn't happened before!_ Some would be kinder, even share sympathy, but those would be laced with _'And no family, how sad!' _Some would just shrug it off, _'It's Chicago, what do you expect?'_ Kalinda wasn't sure what Diane would hate more.

Not that it mattered, at least, not at the moment.

"Kalinda, I thought I already told you—"

"I'm only looking," she raised her hands up innocently.

"When it comes to you, Kalinda, is there ever really _just _looking?" Detective Anthony De Luca asked with a shake of his head. He was the lead on the investigation and Kalinda had known him from a while back. Antonio preferred Tony or 'just De Luca', preferring the shortened version of his name because it sounded too ostentatious for the likes of him, the lowly Chicago cop.

He was the textbook Italian with his dark eyes, mob-look sans the heavily gelled hair, the round but not too big belly and the accent. He was thinning at the top, tough and grew up on South Side of Chicago. He was easy to spot as one of those kids who didn't quite get to be a kid. He knew how to fight dirty, knew guns and knew the local kids. He was a long way from the metro and out of place in posh and scenic Barrington Lake.

De Luca was one of the few people Kalinda never had a problem with on the force. He was kind and disciplined, knew what side he was fighting for and didn't have a problem straightening up a crooked cop if he had to. He was a cop who was truly by the book. He retired once then got right back in after just three months. Civilian life, according to him, was _not _for everyone.

"You never know," she shrugged with a small smile. "You're losing your touch. The circus is here already."

"Your _boss _is pretty popular in a lot of important circles, kid," De Luca said with a shrug. "We're lucky we got here first."

"So how'd you get in on this?"

"The big guys want me to handle it," De Luca shrugged. "Tobin's not too happy, but what can an old guy do, eh? I think he likes your boss."

"My boss's got moves you've never seen," she shrugged. Normally, she wouldn't say something like that to people, but she'd known De Luca enough by now to know what a good joke was and what wasn't. Even lowly old De Luca knew who Diane Lockhart was.

"I'd have to agree," De Luca replied, sobering as he glanced at the forensic team's van where their staff was already loading some of their things. "By the looks of things, she put up one hell of a fight."

Kalinda nodded, "Got any names?"

"Not yet," he replied then shook his head, "And even if I _did_, you know I couldn't tell ya."

"How about a trade?"

"If you're holding something back, I got justice on my side on this one, girlie," he smiled, knowing he was the only one who could get away with calling her that stupid nickname. "Obstruction sound good, kid?"

She shrugged with a wicked grin, "I didn't say a thing."

"We haven't found anything yet, okay?" he shook his head, the woman was too slippery to hook anyway. "A lot of people know your boss and you gotta admit, at one time or another, she's got to have pissed off a few people."

"Enough to attack her at home?"

"With wackos these days?" he snorted. "You betcha. Ah, hell, am I talking to a rookie here?"

She smirked, "Covering my bases. Isn't that what you always say?"

He chuckled, "But seriously, kid, I can't do much for you. You can dig all you want, but you're gonna be walking the wire. She's your boss. You know the stakes."

Kalinda nodded, "I know."

"Watch your step, kid," he said with a nod. "And I heard your boss is in surgery. Good luck. She's one of the few lawyers left in this city I haven't wanted to cap _yet_."

-o0o-

"Diane," he hummed, chin on his forearms as he leaned on the side of the bed. Truth was, he was exhausted and hadn't slept for more than twenty-four hours now, but as much as he tried, he couldn't sleep. Somehow he knew the moment he'd shut his eyes and let his mind rest, she'd wake up. She'd do it just to taunt him, he was sure of it. "Come on, Diane, wakey, wakey…eggs and bakey…you've got some scumbags to tear apart."

The sun was beginning to peak in the horizon, but Will didn't know it as the curtains had been drawn in the hospital room. The room was still in a semi-darkened state, save for the light Annie had decided to leave on by the door if only so they'd be able to see a little. Their priority was to make the patient as comfortable as possible.

"You know if you really wanted to punish me, you can just ground me again," he mumbled, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again. "I mean, Diane, I didn't know you could ever be _this _quiet…"

Her face remained passive, her body still under the thin pure white bed sheets of the hospital. He was sure once she woke up she'd be complaining about them. He'd have to remind Annie to pick up a few things from Diane's home.

_Home_, Will closed his eyes. After this entire ordeal, would Diane still consider it as her home? She was so happy about that place, calling it her getaway from their highly stressful lives. What was she going to do? Would she move to escape the nightmarish episode that had just taken place? She was a strong woman, he would easily admit that, but was she strong enough for this? He wouldn't blame her if she ever decided to leave.

His memories of recent events alone would be enough to keep him awake in the near future and he'd been there after the fact, what more with Diane who actually lived through it?

Will remembered the bloody knife. It had looked like the average kitchen knife, but only hours ago it had been turned into an impromptu weapon. Had Diane grabbed it in sheer desperation in an act to defend herself? Or did the attacker come at her with it, intending to hurt her with her own possessions? How had Diane managed to defend herself? Did she _really _stab someone? She'd always been against violence, after all, but it was only human instinct to fight for survival. Will suppressed a shudder, barely able to imagine the horror.

He was a lawyer, an experienced one, but even he could not fathom going through something so terribly traumatizing. He'd been in fights before but nothing quite so brutal. He'd never handled guns or knives that way either. He knew he was capable, if there was no other option, of killing for survival, but still, thinking about it and actually _going through it _were totally different things.

It would be up to Diane, but if Will had any say in the matter, he'd insist she at least find someone to help her through this. No one was _that _strong. This was going to affect her, somehow.

The bandage on her head, near the temple where she'd been wounded was not as large as he had originally anticipated. The bandage ran from the side of her head, a little towards the middle of her forehead and stopping just next to her hairline. The once divorced Dr. Nolan had noted that he'd allowed the option of avoiding altering Diane's hairstyle, telling Will he knew women enough to know what to avoid as much as possible.

Will knew Diane wouldn't have minded, but also knew she would appreciate the thought anyway. She was, after all, still a woman who took great pride in looking good.

Her broken left wrist was already placed in a cast starting from her hand along her thumb then stopping halfway down to her forearm. Dr. Nolan mentioned she would have difficulty maneuvering for a while and Diane was going to need help performing even the most basic tasks. Will reminded himself he'd have to have Annie arrange something for that. Dr. Nolan also predicted that if Diane followed through the required physical therapy program, the fracture would heal in as early as six weeks.

Underneath the sheets and the thin hospital gown—he expected she'd want to change out those as soon as possible—it had been confirmed that while her ribs had been badly bruised, nothing had been broken. They would heal normally as the bruises fade.

Among Diane's other injuries, the thankfully minor ones were the bruising on her arms, face and right wrist, the cut on her cheek and a sprained ankle the doctor expected to heal quickly if she didn't put too much pressure on it. The last of her injuries were the bruises on her neck, something Will still had a bit of trouble looking at and avoided seeing altogether.

How could this have happened? Will wondered miserably as he leaned away from the bed, closing his eyes as he rubbed his face with his hands. Who would do this? Diane was known for never backing down, for fighting for various causes, but as far as Will knew, she didn't have enemies. That had always been something that concerned him about Stern and never Diane. Perhaps they'd made a mistake of not worrying. God only knew how many truly insane people out there were out to harm people from their line of work.

Will knew he'd have to rethink things concerning security not only for Diane, but for the rest of the firm as well. There hadn't been any confirmation whether this incident was connected to their work or if it was random or something entirely personal that Diane didn't talk about, but it still got Will thinking. He needed to take care of his people, especially after this. He'd seen the movies, read the books and even dreamt about scenarios involving some crazy nut coming into the office and losing it. He'd have to take better precautions to protect his people. It was his responsibility.

He breathed in deeply. He was tired, he needed sleep and some food, but for some reason, his body wouldn't listen. He couldn't remove himself from his seat next to Diane's bed but he had to get moving soon. He still had to shower, change his clothes and head to the office. There would be questions, and no doubt the press was already in on the situation, and he would need to talk to the people at the firm and Diane's clients.

Will didn't even dare turn on the television yet, knowing there was a large possibility that the story was already running on the local news channels. He couldn't let those segments distract him, not when he needed to take charge knowing he would be on his own for a while. Diane wasn't showing signs of coming around yet and with her recovery time still undetermined, Will needed to get a head start on what was to be done in her absence.

Making additions to the growing mental list in his head, Will slowly let his eyes close and let his mind take over. He'd done cases that lasted days with little to no sleep, but tonight he'd been running purely on adrenaline and now he was completely spent.

Annie was still outside, making calls to track down Daniel. He would have time to catch a nap and then after, if Diane was still out, he would head back to his place, take a bath to wake himself up and get some fresh clothes. He'd have to leave Diane under Annie's watch and if possible, he'd come back when everything was in order. He needed to call an emergency meeting with the general partnership. They needed to know the right facts instead of hearing bits and pieces from the news. God knew they tended to get things wrong.

Breathing in deeply, Will slumped forward again, letting his head return to its previous spot on the hospital bed. The sheets were surprisingly soft against his cheek and for a moment, Will opened his eyes once then let them close again. He barely had anything left to keep himself propped up, let alone awake. Outside, something he was still unaware of, the sun was already making its way higher up, waking the rest of the city while he slowly began to drift away. This time he allowed his eyes to stay closed and his head near Diane's limp hand and, finally, allowed himself to sleep.

Will needed all the sleep he could get for in less than a few hours, reality would come back with a vengeance bringing with it a whole new set of problems even he would not be able to anticipate.

-o0o-

"….from Lockhart & Gardner have yet to make a statement on this tragic event."

Grace Florrick looked up at the mention of the law firm where her mother was currently employed. Sitting at the island in the kitchen of their home, she'd been exchanging text messages with her friend, Shannon Vargas, when the news came on and therefore hadn't been able to hear what had been said. Frowning slightly, she wondered why the image on the news was of a beautiful house surrounded by policemen when the topic was something about the firm.

"Honey, are you finished eating? Your brother is almost finished in the bathroom," her mother said as she breezed into the kitchen as she did every morning, nearly finished dressing as she checked on the coffee pot to see if it was done.

"Mom, I think your firm is on the news."

"Really?" Alicia said, looking up as she tied the sash at the waist of her black dress.

Grace obeyed and it was only then when she saw the headline at the bottom of the video, _"Lockhart & Gardner partner, Diane Lockhart killed in alleged break-in."_

"Oh my god," Alicia gasped, hands covering her mouth as she watched.

"Isn't that your boss?" Grace asked worriedly.

"Yes, but—"

Alicia grabbed the remote, changing the channel to another local one and caught the news just in time. The reporter wore a somber look as she spoke, "Diane Lockhart, daughter of the late Chicago Congressman, Daniel Archer Lockhart II and senior partner of Lockhart & Gardner was attacked in her Barrington Lake home and was found dead earlier this morning. We'd like to express our deepest sympathies to her friends and family. She is survived by—"

Grace watched her mother rush out of the room, the sash she'd been trying to tie properly askew as she rushed to her bedroom. Concerned, Grace followed her mother and caught her just in time dialing her cell phone, her face frozen in shock as her fingers worked of their own accord.

Alicia pressed the phone to her ear, her free hand over her heart as she waited for the other end of the phone to pick up. "Come on," she coaxed though she knew there was no way the person she was calling would hear her. "Pick up."

"What?"

"Kalinda? It's Alicia," she said, glancing at her daughter who still had concern written on her face. "Oh my god, I just saw the news and—"

"I know," Kalinda cut in. "I'm just about to leave the lake."

"What?" Alicia said, brows furrowing further. "Oh, god. What happened?"

"I can't talk about it yet, but it's not as bad as—"

"What are you talking about? Diane's dead! Of course it's as bad—"

"What? What are _you _talking about?"

"I just saw the news! They said Diane was attacked in her home and—!"

"What? That's—hold on," she muttered. "I'll call you back."

"Wait!"

"What?"

"What happened?"

"I can't tell you."

"Is she alive? Is she hurt? Come on, Kalinda—"

"She's in the hospital," Kalinda answered, sounding a little ruffled. "Look, I have things to take care of. Everything's a little messed up. I'll call you when I hear about Diane."

"Wait! Is she really, uh, dead?" she placed one hand over her stomach, feeling slightly sick.

"I don't know, but she was alive when they took her to the hospital."

"Oh, god…what happened?"

"I'm trying to find out. Look, I'll call you if I know anything," Kalinda said forcefully, if only to make her point. "No need to panic yet."

"Of course. Okay. Kalinda?"

"What?"

"Be careful."

"You too," Kalinda replied. "When you get to work, act as normally as you can. I know this might be all over the news, but we can't start acting crazy over this."

"Okay."

"It's just another day," Kalinda said then hung up.

Alicia stared at her phone blankly.

"Well?" she looked up to see Grace still standing by her bedroom door. She had forgotten her daughter was still in the room.

"We don't know anything yet," Alicia said as she beckoned her daughter closer. "But Kalinda said our boss, Diane, was brought to the hospital. We're not sure if she's, uhm, dead."

"Was she really attacked?"

"I don't know," Alicia said as she hugged her daughter close, "I'll find out today, meanwhile, you and your brother need to get to school and I have to get to work."

"Maybe you shouldn't today," Grace suggested hopefully. She'd always been the precocious one. "I mean, maybe…"

"It's okay," Alicia said with a smile as she ran her hand through her daughter's long hair. "Everything's going to be fine…evidently, the news wasn't very accurate and some people from work will have to talk to them."

"But…"

"I know," she said with a smile. "Tell you what, I'll _try _to get home as early as I can then we can watch a movie or talk. You choose, okay?"

"But it's a school night."

"You'll finish your homework, you're home free."

Grace smiled, "Thanks, mom."

"You're welcome, sweetheart," Alicia said. "Now I have to finish getting ready and _you _make sure you and your brother don't get left behind by the bus."

"Okay," Grace said, looking less worried now as she exited the room and Alicia went back to getting ready, "Mom?"

"Yeah?" she turned, a ready smile on her face though she was still reeling from what she'd heard on the news.

"Be careful?"

"Of course," she smiled. "And you too, okay?"

Grace smiled widely, "Always."

Alicia watched her daughter leave. She was tempted to call Will, but things haven't really been going well enough for her to just call him so early in the morning. She was almost sure he already knew and probably knew more about what happened. To say their relationship outside the office was complicated would be an understatement. If anything _did _happen to Diane, Alicia knew Will didn't need her barging into the situation and add more stress he was sure not going to need.

Composing herself and pushing away the nagging guilt she had been trying to ignore for a while now, Alicia went on preparing for work. She had no active cases today and had planned on working on some things for Sheffrin-Marks. There were still much to do with their biggest client and she'd been reminded enough that balls couldn't be dropped so if she wasn't going to be in court today or handling a new client, she'd make do with some billable hours. God knew she was still in need to up her game.

Of course, Eli Gold's deal _did _help her in so many ways, but Alicia was not willing to ride on that deal and prove Cary Agos' resentful claims about her. She knew the younger man had been angry, and she would be too if the situation was reversed, but she needed the job. She wasn't living the life she lived over a year ago and she had her children, her husband and his case to worry about. Not to mention her mother-in-law who, though she looked very much okay now, still had some recovering to do.

Alicia was willing to prove that while Eli gave her the means to make the quicker win to seal her position in the firm, she was well worth keeping. She'd done a good job during her two years in practice before other more important priorities came along, she was going to show everyone she could still do that. It had nothing to do with age or who knew who—this was law and she was good at it. She'd prove Cary and the other vicious whisperers wrong.

It had been Diane who as good as told her about using her connections and, though Alicia never wanted to, she'd taken the veiled advice despite her misgivings. She knew the firm was in trouble, knew that things could go wrong at any given moment so she'd taken the deal. It sealed her fate in Lockhart & Gardner _and _gave Diane and Will the clients they needed.

Diane Lockhart.

Alicia still could not believe the news. Kalinda, who apparently knew about the whole thing prior to her call, apparently did not know about what the new had just reported to Alicia and the rest of the viewers that were tuned in. Could Diane really be gone? Alicia did not want to believe it. On top of the woman being a great lawyer, she was slowly becoming someone who was really good to Alicia.

They didn't start out liking each other, with Diane's obviously less-accepting views about certain things Alicia and, in turn, Alicia's first impression of Diane, but eventually, when circumstances granted them brief views of each other, Alicia had learned not to hold on to her first impression and Diane, it seemed, learned to accept Alicia as a solid part of the firm. In time, Alicia had really learned to like the older woman and had, in fact, started looking up to her as a true mentor.

She'd seen Diane the night before and she really looked fine, despite the rumors floating around that Will was due for another confrontation with her concerning a new pro-bono case she'd just taken in. Alicia hadn't been privy to any information but she'd heard it around anyway. She wasn't sure what it was about but she knew Will was more than a little upset from the way he looked all day long. She'd seen him around to know he wasn't holding on to his anger too well. And everyone had been aware that it had been Diane who set him off again.

Noticing the sash she'd tied messily, Alicia began to undo it again, deciding she would get her kids to school herself. It was moments like these that made Alicia, as a parent, want to bundle her two children close and hold on to them the way she did when they were babies. It was an all too-human reaction and she didn't care. Above everything, she wanted her kids to be safe.

"Grace? Zach? Can you come in for a sec?" she called, slipping on a pair of earrings her husband gave her a few anniversaries back. Her day was set to begin, but she wanted to hold on to her children close, if only for a moment.

Briefly, she wondered if someone would be there wanting to hold Diane as well. It was only then she realized she knew little to nothing of the woman. She hadn't even studied her background like Cary had told her he'd done. Did the reporter just say her father was a Congressman? Not being a native of Chicago, Alicia honestly did not know. The woman, in essence, was a complete stranger to her.

Glancing at her reflection on the mirror just as her children entered her bedroom, Alicia sincerely hoped there would be a chance to change that in the future.

-o0o-

Though the door opened slowly and almost without a sound it still woke Will up and he was willing to accept it had more to do with his body clock demanding he _should _be at work rather than Annie coming in. He checked his phone to see what time it was and realized he'd bee asleep for two hours. That was going to be enough, at least, with some coffee, maybe an espresso.

"He's on his way," Annie was saying, her eyes glued to her glowing phone, parts of her face lit up by the gadget.

"Where'd you find him?" Will asked, suppressing a yawn as he stretched his arms forward, interlaced fingers stretching to their limit.

"New York," Annie sighed. "I accessed Miss Lockhart's email and found a number from one of the older messages. It turned out to be his assistant. According to her, he just flew in to New York from Egypt a few hours ago. She was _so _not happy to be disturbed…"

"Egypt?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Some sort of dig in the desert, I don't know. I didn't ask much. She sounded like she needed sleep."

"He's probably found a new hobby," Will commented. "Why don't you sleep, Ann? She won't be waking up any time soon."

"I just had three cups of coffee," she informed him. "I think I'll be too wired to sleep for while…but, with all due respect, Mr. Gardner, I think _you _could use some shut eye."

Will chuckled, "I just woke up. I got in two hours, should be enough."

"Should I call Kate? I mean, tell her to get some things ready—"

"No," Will said, shaking his head as he ran his hand through his hair. "It's likely there are some reporters near the firm. I'll go home, get changed and look presentable. The more composed I look, the better. I don't want those vultures sniffing around Diane right now."

"Of course," Annie nodded. "I'll keep them out and wait for Mr. Lockhart to arrive. He'll be here in two hours and I've already arranged a car for him at O'Hare."

Will nodded, "If his assistant hasn't already, I'm sure it'll be useful. I'd like to know when he arrives, okay? We've only ever met once, but I'd like to talk to him."

"Okay," she nodded.

"But could you please tell Kate to pull up some confidentiality contracts?" Will said, only remembering this now. "I'd prefer to have the hospital staff and Dr. Nolan sign a set to protect Diane. Damn vultures..."

"Good idea," Annie nodded and began to type a message to Will's assistant. "Any specific instructions?"

"No, she knows how to do those," he replied. His phone rang again, "Its Kalinda…I'm going to take this outside. Annie, could you…?"

"I'll stay with Miss Lockhart," she said with a slight smile. "She'll be fine."

"Uh, thanks," Will said, patting Diane's unresponsive hand gently before pushing himself to leave the room. His limbs were still a little stiff from poor treatment. "What do you have?"

"Are you near a TV?"

"No, we don't want to disturb Diane, why?"

"Alicia just called me and said a local news channel just reported that Diane's dead."

"_What?" _

"Is she dead?"

"Of course _not_!" Will barely managed to keep his voice down. "Who the hell was it this time? Jesus. They call themselves journalists, right?"

"How is she?" Kalinda said, unfazed.

"She's resting," Will replied, clenching his fist at his side as he leaned back against the wall opposite the door he'd just come out of. "Annie managed to reach Daniel Lockhart. He's coming in in about two hours."

"Diane's brother?"

"Yes."

"I've never met him."

"Almost everyone hasn't," he muttered. "I need this to go away, Kalinda. I don't want her brother coming home thinking the worst."

"I'll track it down and straighten it up."

"Yes, but tell them I'm calling them myself later," he instructed. "I'm going to go and change then head to the firm. Alicia already knows?"

"Saw it on the news. She wanted to know if the news was true."

"Damn it," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Those bastards won't know what hit them when I'm done with them."

"I always said I like seeing you in action."

He smirked, "So, did you find out anything?"

"Nothing new," she replied, sounding a lot more serious now. "Whoever the attacker was knew how to break the alarm system without alerting anyone. Each system of the homes in the community are supposed to be monitored by the employees of the lake but they weren't even triggered by alarms. Nothing seems stolen, her things from her bag were dumped, but wallets, credit cards, ID's and even her iPod was still there." She paused, "Her phone was found on the stairs and it looked like it fell during a struggle. They found blood on the steps and think that's where she might have hit her head."

"She was running."

"Or fighting him off," Kalinda added. "Her shoes were there, must have taken them off around the same time. Some overturned furniture, some DNA, hair and prints, but the labs are going to need to sort those out. Whoever did this was sloppy, either didn't know or care about DNA."

"Any suspects?"

"Not yet."

"Kalinda, about the—"

"Will, don't."

"If there's something I _need _to know…"

"You have to talk to her."

"We haven't exactly been having the best conversations."

"You're telling me," she muttered. "Look, if there was something she needed _you _to know, she would tell you. Diane has always been professional."

"What if it was personal?"

"Then it's her prerogative whether or not you need to know."

"If she was in danger, then hell yes, I _need _to know," he ground out.

"Again, her decision," Kalinda pointed out. "Anyway. They have De Luca on the case."

"Oh, great."

"What?"

"I might have pissed him off at one point," he muttered.

"Huh, that explains something," she said absently. "But he's good, Will. You'll have nothing to worry about when he's on the case. He doesn't even mind Diane."

"De Luca likes the pretty ones."

"No, he just dislikes bastards."

"Are you calling me a bastard?"

"When you're in lawyer mode? You can be," she said bluntly. "I think it's a job requirement."

That made Will chuckle, "True on both counts. Are you still at the lake?"

"I just left," she supplied. "I'll go to the stations and talk to them, inform them of their oversight and head to the firm. The investigation is only starting and with the labs still processing, I'll be able to cover some ground from the office."

"Okay," Will nodded. "I'll see you there."

"You'll update me on Diane?"

"I will, after I talk to the partners and the staff," he nodded.

"Okay."

Hanging up, Will let his head fall back against the wall, breathing in deeply and exhaling slowly and stared at the stark white ceiling over his head. Yesterday had been so normal, now everything just looked miserable. Will was tired, he needed a lot of the most basic human needs like food and sleep and his partner was laid up on a hospital bed, unconscious.

Closing his eyes, he wondered at how he wished he was back in his office again. He wouldn't even care if he was stuck begging a drug dealer to sign on as a client or in a screaming match with Diane. He wanted things to be _normal_ again, wanted none of this because it didn't make sense. His head was so full of questions, his body was beginning to ache and his list of things to do was piling up to his ears.

"God," he muttered, scratching his left eye tiredly. "This is hell."

-o0o-

The benefit of living away from the city lights and civilization itself was the fact that ballistics expert Kurt McVeigh could wake up in the morning by the pleasant sounds of his alarm clock rather than the blaring of horns or the screaming of early grouches on the street.

He had tried living in the city at one point, but eventually, the hustle and bustle got the best of him. He bought a land, built a house and a farm and also, his very own crime lab. Living in solitude gave him the freedom he hadn't known he'd been searching for.

Mornings were quiet, much like the one he was experiencing at the moment. He'd spent the morning riding his horse both for exercise and because he wanted to. And, like clockwork, since there was no work to be done, no active cases to finish, he made breakfast as the television aired the morning's news.

He'd been exiting the pantry with a fresh bottle of ketchup when he heard it, _"…senior partner of Lockhart & Gardner was attacked in her Barrington Lake home and was found dead earlier this morning. We'd like to express our deepest—"_

The house being shown was a house he already knew but never been to. He knew the woman on the photo being shown on the television, understood what the reporter was saying and pretty much got the picture of what happened to the house by the lake.

What Kurt could not do was reconcile the subject of the news with the woman he knew.

The same woman he'd gotten to know, argued politics with, discussed cases and reasonable rate with, exchanged silly gifts, shared a drink and had a beautiful night together. He knew how to make her laugh, how she laughed and how much he liked hearing _and _watching her laugh. He knew he was everything she didn't think she wanted, but accepted anyway despite the protests going on in her busy little head and from the screaming graves of her ancestors.

He knew she hoped he wasn't related to that crazy bastard Timothy McVeigh. He knew she was a _very _intelligent woman and knew she was a lawyer, a damned good one and knew, despite the way things ended the last time they'd been in one room and the fact that he'd been angry at her, he wanted to know _everything _about her.

She liked red, liked Hillary Clinton, hated guns and Sarah Palin, and curiously didn't like peas because every time she played with them, she couldn't. The slippery little rats, as she described them so passionately, evaded the tines of her fork like a plague and it bugged her. She liked to cook, liked wine and never drank beer. She didn't smoke because she had choked when she first tried it and her best friend laughed. She liked dresses as much as she liked shoes. She liked people who made her laugh.

He knew he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame and even if she'd burned him once, he _still _wanted to come back to her. He knew she was suffering from the same case—he was someone completely wrong for her, but she couldn't help herself around him anyway. Together, they were helpless because of each other.

All that he knew, but it wasn't enough. There had to be more, more for him to _want _to know, more for her to share and show him. He had wanted _everything _that came _after _everything.

And the woman on the television, whose life the reporter managed to summarize in less than six sentences, could not be the same woman he wanted all those things with.

She couldn't be gone yet, not when there was still so much left to be said and heard.

_No way in hell._

Shaking his head and taking the few steps that would lead him to the closest phone, he accidentally stepped on the shards of glass on his feet. He had dropped the bottle of ketchup as he watched the news but he ignored the mess and went on to the phone. He was experiencing some sort of tunnel vision. He needed to figure out what was happening.

She could _not _be dead, not yet. It was _impossible_.

Dialing a familiar number in autopilot, he concentrated on the ringing that was filling his ears. He tuned out the television and the laugh that would not stop playing in his head. He'd remember that laugh forever not only because it was beautiful, but because it was _hers_.

He wanted it to stop, but at the same time didn't.

Kurt managed to let the other end ring, but before he could get someone to pick up, he found himself throwing it hard against the wall, shattering it in pieces with one satisfying crash. He was beginning to shake all over and the laughter—_her laughter_—was still playing in his head. Memories assaulted his senses and he found that he could barely get a hold of himself.

What the hell happened? She was _fine _when he last saw her. Hell, she ripped him apart without blinking an eye during the deposition. What changed? The news _had to be_ wrong. He wouldn't believe any of it until the proof was right in his face.

"Damn it," he growled as he headed up to his bedroom, thundering up the steps as he hurried. The woman had played Delilah during their last case, but he could forgive her for that. He already did, actually. It had just been a matter of calling or simply coming by again to let her know he wasn't angry, that he wasn't going to use her job deter him from continuing whatever they'd started together.

Kurt had been pretty sure that while she'd done what she did because it was her job, he couldn't also help but think she'd done it subconsciously to push him away. He knew she didn't go as far as regret what they shared, but he also knew she still had some reservations about starting an actual relationship with him. The fact that their night together had been revealed so publicly by that damned lawyer who had made it look like it had been something _tawdry_ didn't help matters any either. Still, he'd like to think that given the chance and pushing away the hindrances that surrounded them, they had a chance together.

She was bewitching and she had ensnared him so skillfully, he had fallen so fast, so hard, he barely knew what was happening to him. Whether it had been intentional or not, Diane Lockhart had succeeded in capturing Kurt's attention in no way a woman's had for quite some time now. She was beautiful, intelligent, captivating—everything he liked in a woman and so much more and though their beliefs didn't always fall in the same ground, he was willing to look past that. He was willing to prove to her he was worth the effort, worth looking past their differences for.

He would not ask her to change who she was or tell her to leave her job at the door when they're together because, all in all, her job was just a big a part of her as she was and he likedher, _all _of her. Nothing else mattered as long as it was her.

Grabbing some clothes and a different pair of shoes that did not have any condiments on the bottom, Kurt found himself thundering back down the stairs, cell phone, wallet and keys in hand. His mind was set to drive all the way to Chicago, but his heart was still stuck in the too little memories he had of her.

He hoped to God there had been some mistake because he sincerely wanted to have more memories, good ones filled with her laughter. He wanted more chances to make her laugh.

Slamming his front door shut, Kurt decided he was beginning to hate the country for being so far from the city.

-o0o-

Having left his car at Diane's, Will found himself riding a cab to work that morning. According to his usual schedule, he was quite late, but under the circumstances, he knew he deserved the free pass. He had fully succeeded in waking himself up with a shower, some food and programming his mind to focus on the day's events and the things he needed to get done. It worked, as it always did, and he was ready to take on anything the crapped up world had to offer.

Dressed in his black Armani suit with a deep mauve tie, his hair properly combed and his face set in that expression everyone in the law district knew meant _don't mess with me_, he sat back in the backseat of the cab, preparing his poker face even though he knew he'd never really lost it. He was glad he lest his briefcase at the office because if he had taken it with him the night before, he'd have to go back to the Lake to get it. He didn't have time for that, not today.

He watched the city pass him by and, for once, the scenes of Chicago did not help soothe him. To some people the city would have been sad, depressing even, but to Will, nothing was better than watching the city go by. Bad things happened to people at any time and any place, but he didn't mind and everyone knew Chicago was one of those places in the country where those things happened constantly. It was a reality he'd long ago accepted because he liked his city. To Will, it was his home and would always be his home.

He liked the metropolis best, especially when it was entering the law district where most, if not all, the people were dressed in suits, ties, carried their briefcases, often ran to get to court and looked everything the way Will had always imagined his future to be. Those people, _lawyers _and the rest of them, were what he'd dreamt of. He liked the rush, the exhilaration of being in front of a bunch of strangers and making them see things from his point of view _and _making them understand his reasoning and eventually fall on his side.

It made Will feel powerful, someone _worth _listening to and he liked feeling like that.

"Could you take the east side, please?" Will found himself requesting, having been forewarned by his assistant that there were already reporters waiting outside the front of the firm. The back was clear and she already had Roscoe, the morning security, to clear the area for him. They had already succeeded in taking some associates by surprise, stunning some of them by news that they hadn't even bee aware of and had, essentially, ambushed them right when their morning was just beginning.

"Sure," the cabbie answered with a nod. "You work at that firm?"

"Yeah."

"Hear about that lady lawyer?"

"Yes," he said, taking out his phone and realizing he needed to have it charged already.

"That was bad," the cabbie muttered. "Lady like that getting jumped in her own home…gotta feel bad for her."

Will swallowed and made a sound of agreement.

"Knew her?"

"You could say that," Will said, glancing at the rearview mirror to meet the cabbie's eyes.

"Must be rough," the cabbie said. "Losing one of your own."

Will nodded and felt his jaw tense but forced himself to respond anyway, "It happens."

The cabbie nodded as the car turned to the back of the firm's building. As Kate had suggested, the back entrance was closed and Will allowed the cabbie entry into the lower level parking lot. At the door, Roscoe was waiting already, keeping a trained eye at every nook and cranny of the dim lot. Will knew the man was better than a K-9 unit.

He paid the cabbie with a tip and left without a word, nodding at the stoic Roscoe before heading to the second elevator that required a lock. The car would take him all the way up to the firm without meeting anyone, if he preferred, and it had been modeled the same as the back elevators that allowed judges to go straight to their chambers in the secure part of the courthouse.

It had taken time and considerable money, as well Jonas Stern's disapproval, but it had been one of those times when Diane allowed herself to side with Will rather than her mentor. She agreed there would be days when they'd get high profile cases that would require isolation not only for them, but also their clients. It was a rare moment when Stern had been so easily outvoted.

Senior partners and some higher level partners all had keys though Will and Diane rarely used theirs but today he was still thankful they'd come up with this. It was extremely helpful now and he was glad he didn't have to face the reporters just yet.

Nearing the top, Will readied his mask, his face transforming to an even harder mask of indifference and free of the anxiety that had threatened to ravish him only hours ago. He was dressed impeccably, his suit worn like an armor the way Diane wore her suits and dresses, his façade in place and there would be no tearing him down that day.

Kate met him at the door, coffee in hand, notepad in place and a shaky smile, "Good morning, Mr. Gardner."

"Morning," he nodded as he accepted the cup with a nod of thanks. He had coffee at his place and he'd drink this one too because he was going to need it. "What do I need to know?"

"Some associates who had no idea what happened have been asking questions," she said quietly as she walked with him. The only disadvantage of the back elevator was that it would take them a lot longer to reach his office and he'd have to pass by a few offices. He'd manage. "They were caught by surprise by the reporters and-and I didn't know what to say."

"That's fine."

"Some of them really think Miss Lockhart is...that she's, uhm," Kate struggled and Will was only patient enough to let her get through this. She was one of the few people who got glimpses of Diane where she wasn't completely guarded or in lawyer mode. Assistants always get that privilege. "They think she's _gone_."

"She isn't," he ground out as he took a sip from his mug. "Did you arrange the staff meeting in the conference room?"

"I did," Kate nodded. "And Kalinda came by and gave you a number she said you might want to call in the local news circuit. Three names, two numbers and a funny look on her face. It was kind of…scary."

Will nodded, "I'll deal with them myself. Did you manage to contact the general partnership?"

He ignored those who openly stared or froze in place at the sight of him and were aware of those who buried themselves in files or books. He knew it wasn't because they were afraid, but rather because of what happened and what was happening. He'd talk to them, ease their worries and somewhat silence the whispers. They liked Diane, she was a good boss and it was understandable that they'd be concerned.

Will didn't want to think about what they were already drawing up from the mistakes made in the news and whatever bull they'd been fed.

"I did and they're all anxious to meet with you," she nodded. "Oh, and Mrs. Florrick came by earlier and asked if you were in. She looked…disturbed but it might be because of…what happened."

He nodded, "She'll come back if she needs to."

"Also, a few clients and a few people have called Miss Lockhart's office," she volunteered. "I've been manning Annie's desk."

"Thank you, I'll have someone take Annie's place as soon as possible."

"Oh, but I don't mind..."

"You will be busy with me today," he said. "I'm going to need you, Kate."

"Of course," she nodded, blonde ponytail bobbing as her head moved. "I already messengered the confidentiality agreement to the hospital and to Dr. Nolan. He called and said he didn't have a problem with it."

"He's a good man," Will nodded. "Who called Diane's office?"

"There was one from Malcolm Overby," she enumerated as she opened her notepad. "A Kendrick Townsend, Tracy Buckman and, oh, one from Chief Justice Adler."

Will paused then shook his head, "Chief Justice Adler's people called?"

"Yes," Kate nodded. "She requested that you call her back as soon as possible."

"What did Overby want?"

"Didn't say," she replied. "Seemed quiet though."

Will's face darkened, "Patch him through _if _he calls again."

"What about the other two, sir?"

"I don't think I know them," he said honestly. "List their names and if they call again refer them to me if it's a legal matter or if they have some questions regarding Diane."

"Oh, and a few reporters called," she said, tapping her notepad. "They want to speak to you."

"No comment."

"O-kay," Kate nodded. "The staff meeting is set ten minutes from now. Almost everyone's there. Should I set the meeting with the general partnership for this morning as well?"

"Yes, please, set it after the staff," he decided it would be quicker to tell the staff than the general partnership that mostly included old fogies who liked to ask a lot of questions. Those old men both feared and admired Diane for various reasons, but Will also knew they often enjoyed looking at her legs. Some of them, the braver older ones, even dared call her that—_legs_—when the atmosphere was light.

"Some flowers arrived," Kate said, almost solemnly. "Gardenias…for Miss Lockhart. I put them in her office…I know she likes the way they smell."

Will nodded and gave her a small smile as he entered his office, "Thank you, Kate."

"Welcome," she said with a smile. "I'll tell the staff you're on your way up."

He nodded.

"Mr. Gardner?"

"It's Will."

"Whatev," she said, shrugging. "I prefer the title with the name, but…"

"Yes, Kate?"

"She's okay, right?" Kate said hopefully, blue eyes only now expressing the sadness she'd evidently hidden. "I mean…Miss Lockhart's always been nice to me and…you know."

"She's resting," Will answered, preferring to be honest and knowing he could trust her. "She's been hurt, but she's going to be okay, Kate. You don't have to worry."

"I do," she shrugged. "I can't help it."

He nodded, "I know."

-o0o-

"I know some, if not all, of you have heard what happened," Will said, standing at the head of the conference room that was filled to the brim with the staff that consisted not only of associates, but as well as their assistants after Will declared it was to be an open meeting.

The chair Diane usually occupied had been left untouched, something Will had not decided upon, but rather seemed to be a general decision of the majority in respect of their absent boss. The vacant seat almost sat hauntingly next to him and Will did his best to ignore it.

Kate was at the corner of the room, taking notes and Kalinda was by the door at the back. Alicia, from what he could see, was somewhere in the crowd of suits.

"And I know what the news reported and I am here to say," he paused, meeting a few eyes in the room to emphasize the point he was going to make. "The reports are _not _true. Diane was attacked in her home last night but she was found in time and was rushed to the hospital. She's already out of surgery for some internal bleeding caused by a head injury and she will be sore for a while, but it has been guaranteed that she will be okay."

Collective sighs and smiles came over the group and Will could feel the dark cloud lifting somewhat. A few people exchanged smiles, some of the younger associates managed to bump knuckles or slap hands silently and Will allowed himself to smile a little.

"Dr. Nolan, the surgeon in charge of Diane's treatment, expects her to recover well and granted that if the head injury doesn't produce any adverse effects, she will make full recovery with little to no reminders of this trying ordeal.

"Now, I know this has greatly disturbed everyone and our work will be affected for a while with the reporters and the shock altogether, but I advice that we try to be at our best anyway. I believe without a doubt, this is what Diane would want," he continued.

"And, as I said, Dr. Nolan remains positive and so expects Diane to wake up today. Safe to say, people, that should any balls get dropped, be prepared for her to contact you through your phones. God knows she can't stay away from work and even a hospital stay won't change that."

A lot of them managed of laugh at that, nodding in agreement though those who were more emotionally unsettled could at least chuckle. At the back, the ever stoic Kalinda managed to give him an approving nod in his effort to lift the atmosphere a little.

"Mr. Gardner?" Kate said, meekly from her corner just as Will noticed Kalinda stepped out with her phone pressed to her ear.

"Yeah?" he managed to say though his eyes were glued on Kalinda, hoping it could be news about the situation.

"I've just been informed that the—"

Will managed to lose her when Kalinda's head shot up, wide eyes meeting his through the glass walls as she listened to the other end of the call. Her eyes stayed on his and Will already felt a lump beginning to form in his throat as a feeling of dread washed over him, telling him that whatever was going on with the other end of that call, it wasn't good.

"Excuse me," he managed to say as he headed out of the room, placating hand up as he exited through the nearest door to his left. He managed to look composed as he calmly walked towards Kalinda. "What's going on?"

She held up a hand, "Are you sure?...alright. Thanks. I owe you."

"What?"

Kalinda turned to him, "The Chicago police are coming with Detective De Luca. Someone managed to inform me, but they're already on their way."

"Why are they coming _here_?"

"They're coming," her eyes bore into his. "For you."

"_WHAT?" _he said in disbelief. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"They're coming in to question those who work here," she supplied. "Someone gave them an anonymous tip. They know you and Diane haven't been getting along."

"We argue, a lot, we're partners and we just lost Stern," he growled. "But that doesn't mean I'd try to _kill_ her. Jesus Christ."

"They also know about the troubles regarding the firm—_financial _troubles," she continued, knowing better than to try to placate him. "And you were first on the scene, you found her and when Mario came in, you were over her body."

"I had _not one _mark on me!" he hissed, trying to maintain his composure knowing the entire firm could see them. "The place was a _mess_, Diane fought like hell _and_ she had DNA under her nails and _I _called for help. This is…this is insane!"

"They're just coming in to question you, nothing else," Kalinda said soothingly. "You know this. You maintain your cool, you don't let them see you sweat and you stick to the facts."

"Damn it," he was tempted to punch a wall but he stuck to clenching and unclenching his fists. He was getting riled up again. How dare they accuse him?

"Nobody will believe you did this," she said firmly. "Everyone knows you and knows Diane."

"This doesn't even _cover _circumstantial, Kalinda," he growled.

"I know," she nodded. "But they're just making sure. They're covering their basis. Diane is well received by Chicago, especially the female population. She was a daughter of a well-loved Congressman and she's one of the biggest names in the law district."

"I didn't hurt her," he insisted. "We fought last night, we did, but I would never…"

He couldn't even imagine physically hurting anyone, let alone Diane.

"I know."

"This is crazy," he growled. "This is bullshit."

"Don't let your anger get the best of you," she advised. "They'll be here, any minute now. You know what to do."

"I know. I didn't hurt Diane."

"You're going to need counsel."

"No, I'm a lawyer, damn it, I can represent myself," he said darkly.

"Will."

"Kalinda."

"Take Alicia," she suggested. "She's a lot calmer than you and De Luca won't rough her up."

"Oh, bait him with a woman," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "That always looks good."

"Will."

"No," he said solidly.

She rolled her eyes, "If you screw this up, you won't just lose your clients. You're going to piss off Diane when she wakes up and you're going to ruin your reputation _and _credibility in this city. You know _better _than this."

"I—"

"You lose, you lose everything," she went on. "_If _they manage to charge you—"

"_Charge me_?" he thundered, unable to hold himself back now. "CHARGE ME WITH WHAT? What evidence do they have? What the fuck do they have?"

Kalinda ignored him, "It's your gamble, but I'd like to believe you're not dumb enough to throw it all away for pride and naïveté not suited for you."

Will opened his mouth to argue then closed it again and Kalinda nodded approvingly.

"I'll go get Alicia."

-o0oo0oo0o-

I'm still building up the story so it's boring for now. Still, next chapter we're going to meet **the brother **so that should be interesting.

And since I've got the po-pos on Will's butt, we're gonna see him sit on the other side of the interrogation table for once. I'll try to make it interesting. *smiles*

I sincerely hope **Alicia and Kalinda are in character **because I'm working my butt off trying to study them all, especially Kalinda. Oh, and **Detective De Luca **is obviously mine…he's going to be around for a bit, I think.

Oh! And I hope **McVeigh **was okay. He's busy getting his butt to Chicago right now so hold on. Still, I must warn everyone I haven't decided who I want for Diane yet. They _were _cute together though so…*evil laugh* we'll see.

I hope my **POV of McVeigh's **about Diane were not too cheesy. I'm realizing stoically silent cowboys are kind of hard to write.

As always, me likes reviews. Tell me what you think people, so I'll know.

_**Note:**_

_**To Ellie:**_  
I love that you liked Daniel. And YES, originally, he was going to be a doctor but I changed my mind at the last minute. That's so cool! I must be picking up things from you mind! lol I think Dan's going to be interesting, at least, in my head he is. And I'm glad you liked my backstory for Annie. It would have been something I'd love to see Diane do. A little play time never hurt anyone, right? *laughs* Oh, and thank you for saying the original characters are doing well. I'm always so nervous about that.

Too bad you don't have an account, but I don't mind leaving messages here. I love interacting with readers. Or, at least I'm learning that I do. I'm new with this, bear with me please. *smiles* Thanks again, Ellie, you're always wonderful.


	4. Chapter 4: Crash Course

**Blackout**  
by: raileht

**Summary:** It was over. The fight in her was almost completely out and she was nearing total exhaustion. She was about to die.**  
Disclaimer: **The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.**  
Rating: **T, to be safe  
**Spoilers/Timeline:** post-finale but I've omitted some facts and scenes to better fit the story and you'll figure out which ones I hadn't included along the way. But if you have questions, just ask.

**Warning: **Bad words and a lot of violence right from the start. Will be a somewhat dark story so people will be in pain—physical and emotional. Maybe not for the faint hearted.**  
Warning#2: **

**Chapter Title taken from:**  
Gameface, _Crash Course in Polite Conversations_

-o0oo0oo0o-

**Chapter Four: Crash Course in Polite Conversations**

Seated in a small room with a two way mirror, a table and four metal chairs, Will could not believe that in less than an hour, he'd gone from being a lawyer to a client. He wanted nothing more than to scream, to demand to be let out, knowing full well it was simply _impossible _that he could have done something so despicable when never in his life had he ever hit a woman.

But he kept quiet, practicing an astounding amount of self-control he'd never expected to posses. Personal knowledge, common sense and Kalinda's words played in a never ending loop in his mind to ensure he wouldn't lose control in all the rage that was steadily building up inside him.

Alicia, as he grudgingly allowed under the watchful eyes of Kalinda, was currently holding the reins and so far, they were doing well. Or, at least, he hasn't been charged with attempted murder yet. Not that he doubted Alicia's abilities. She was sill a talented lawyer, after all.

"We will be filing a complaint," Alicia said as they sat in one of the interview rooms of the Chicago police station. "There was no need to drag my client all the way downtown especially since he's the only active principal of Lockhart & Gardner. You dragged him through the media and, in consequence, could paint him falsely and taint his innocence in the matter when he has been nothing _but _cooperative."

"As is your client's right, Mrs. Florrick," Detective De Luca. "Orders came from the Chief so, shall we?"

"Please do remember we've already stipulated that you can only have my client for one hour and one hour only," Alicia went on. "Mr. Gardner came of his own free will and humored you as far as taking your _invitation _to come here, despite your severe lack of evidence to even come to the firm other than to question employees about information concerning Miss Lockhart. You had _no right _to bring him in. He came willingly and freely and should rightfully be granted freedom to leave when he pleases."

"Of course, Mrs. Florrick," De Luca nodded, looking quite impressed. "Mr. Gardner?"

"Yes?" he managed not to snarl.

"We asked you to come here, Mr. Gardner, because we believe, working so close with the victim, that you might have an idea about what happened late last night," De Luca began. "Any information you may have might help further our investigation."

He opened his mouth to make a retort when Alicia managed to cut in, "My client will _not _be making statements, Detective De Luca."

"Telling us what took place between him and Miss Lockhart might help us, Mrs. Florrick."

"Yes, but only questions or we walk, detective," she said firmly, her dark eyes brazenly meeting the detective's in a silent invitation to a duel.

"You'll help yourself more by telling us straight up what happened than letting lawyers play middleman, Mr. Gardner," De Luca said, though he showed no disrespect as one would have expected after Alicia's response.

Will chuckled, "I don't need to help myself and I _am _a lawyer so, please, on with the questions so I can return to work and check in with the hospital. My partner is due to wake up today and I'd very much like to be there."

"Understandable," De Luca nodded, "I know this will be something you already know but before we begin, I have to recite your rights, sir."

"I'll suffer in silence."

The detective managed a smile then went on to deliver Will his Miranda rights.

Will met Alicia's eyes and she nodded at him. They were doing well and so far, whatever the detective was up to, De Luca did not seem to be outright gunning for him. He was starting to believe the decision to bring him in was _really _more not on his part, but that wouldn't change Will's displeasure of the embarrassment of being dragged in front of the press.

"Okay, shall we?" De Luca said. "Mr. Gardner, is it true you and the victim have not been getting along in the last few…weeks?"

"Her name is Diane," Will said, ignoring the hand that Alicia placed on his arm in an effort to stop him. "Diane Lockhart. And I'd prefer it if you addressed her that way. She may have been victimized, but she is _not _a victim in a sense that makes her sound weak because, I can assure you, she is anything but."

"Very well," De Luca nodded. "Answer the question, sir."

"We have disagreements," Will said simply. "But it doesn't mean we don't get along. We do, fairly well, actually."

"Alright," the detective nodded. "Can you tell us what the fight from the night before was about, Mr. Gardner?"

"It was not a fight," Alicia inserted. "Mr. Gardner and Miss Lockhart were simply having a discussion, nothing more."

"Then what was the _discussion _about?"

Will inhaled slightly, "Diane took a pro-bono case regarding an eighteen-year-old girl who got mixed with the wrong crowd. They picketed a major company and it turned into a mini-riot and the company happened to be one of our clients, mine mainly, so I wanted to talk to her about it, see if she knew coming in that she was basically going against a new major client."

"She took a client who was making a case against one of _your _clients?"

"No, it only happened on my client's property," Will answered and decided it was better not to mention that the case was being filed _against _the city and not Wentworth & Lennox. Cops tended to take that none too lightly. "But the fact that they were being picketed painted a bad picture of the company and, understandably, my clients were upset about the matter."

"That made you angry so you fought?"

"Asked and answered, detective," Alicia chimed in dutifully, "It was a discussion."

"When you discuss things with Miss Lockhart, do you normally shout at her, Mr. Gardner?"

Will opened his mouth, but Alicia beat him to it. It was better that way. He would have said something he would regret later. He was getting more annoyed with each question.

"Detective, again, asked and answered," Alicia said, obviously ruffled. "Move on or we'll have no choice but to leave."

"What did you do after your discussion, Mr. Gardner?"

"I sat in my office, tried to get some work done," he answered.

"Tried?"

"I couldn't," he answered truthfully. "I wanted to discuss the matter further with Diane, in a more relaxed atmosphere so I thought I'd follow her home. It's not unusual. Sometimes I get one of the guest rooms if she's not too cranky I woke her up."

"And if she is? Too cranky, I mean."

"I get the couch and make do," Will said with a slight grin.

"So, from your office, you drove to Barrington Lake? To Miss Lockhart's home?"

"Yes."

"But you live in the city, here?"

"Yes."

"And how long after the discussion did you follow?" De Luca was writing on his small notepad, but rarely took his eyes off Will.

"Minutes, maybe ten," he shrugged. "I can't be sure."

De Luca gave him a serious and hard look, "Mr. Gardner, are you and Miss Lockhart involved in an intimate relationship?"

"Detective—"

"No," Will cut through Alicia's objection. He had nothing to hide and the same went with Diane. "We are not in an intimate relationship, detective. We're partners. It would cause unnecessary conflict within the firm."

De Luca nodded, "Is Miss Lockhart currently involved with anyone?"

Will's mind flashed to the cowboy, Kurt McVeigh, but he hadn't seen him or heard anything about him since his last consultation. Rumors flew for a while of what Diane had done during a deposition with McVeigh and Cary in the opposing sides. From what he heard, Diane had showed no mercy and effectively crippled their case by scrapping his testimony.

"None that I'm aware of," he replied simply.

"But there must be someone, if you have any idea at all?"

"I'd rather not speculate."

"Your firm, how is it?"

"Good."

"You lost your third partner, Jonas Stern," De Luca said rather than asked.

"Is that a question?"

"No, this is," De Luca tilted his head to the side. "Is it true that from losing the third partner, your firm suffered a great loss and you and Miss Lockhart were considering breaking up?"

"It's always an option, if things don't go as planned," Will answered, slightly raising a hand at Alicia to stop her from objecting again. "But we've decided not to go with that until we've exhausted all possible options."

"Whose idea was it? Breaking the firm?"

"It's a mutual acknowledgment on both sides," Will said. "We both know we can do it any time. The partnership is dissolvable by either at will."

"Did that make you angry?"

"No. I see no use getting upset when nothing of the sort has happened yet," he replied. "But even if it did, I wouldn't be able to do anything."

"You'll start from the bottom, if Miss Lockhart just suddenly decides to quit?"

"You obviously don't know her," Will commented, nonchalantly brushing the front of his impeccable suit. "_Miss Lockhart_ doesn't _just_ decide anything suddenly. But yes, should that happen, I'll start anew. It's common practice among firms. Even biglaws aren't recession proof anymore, sad to say."

"Yes, sad," De Luca nodded as he kept writing.

"This has gone for long enough," Alicia inserted. "Detective, I'd like to advice you to stick to your previous line of questioning rather than inquiring about the status of the firm."

"I'm establishing an inquiry about your client's relationship with the vic—_Miss Lockhart,_ Mrs. Florrick," De Luca answered evenly, eyes leaving Will to settle on Alicia.

"And you've established that they are partners and nothing more," she retorted smoothly. "Move along, detective."

"Fine," De Luca nodded "Mr. Gardner, when you arrived at Miss Lockhart's home, what did you first notice?"

"The lights were all off," Will answered. "I assumed she was asleep already, but…"

"But what?" De Luca leaned forward in his seat.

"I rang the doorbell anyway," he finished. "She'd just come in, I was sure, so I was hoping she'd still let me in, at least let me stay the night. I wasn't up to driving all the way back to the city so late and I hadn't realized I was quite tired already."

"Did you see or hear anything?"

"No, I don't think so," he replied, quietly. "It was quiet. It's always quiet there. Diane loves it."

"What happened next?"

"The door wasn't lock—that was unlike Diane so I went in," he continued. "I figured she might have been too exhausted to notice so I wanted to make sure she was okay."

"Would you mind telling the rest of what happened after you came into the house?"

"I've already stated that _my client will not be making statements_," Alicia cut in, but Will shook his head, stopping her. He hadn't given his side of the story yet and he knew it was better if he did.

"It's fine."

"Will—"

His eyes met hers, "Its fine"

Will didn't do anything wrong and so far, no one looked like they were trying to frame him so he felt it only proper to go ahead and explain his side. Not that he would need explaining since he arrived after the fact. If there was anything to be found to help Diane, he would do it because he saw no reason to use his Fifth Amendment right when he had nothing to hide.

"I went into the house," he continued and began recreating the scenes in his head, trying to bring up as much detail as he could, describing the abandoned shoes, the upturned furniture, Justice and all the way to the part where he'd found Diane in a crumpled heap in the kitchen.

"She was unresponsive," he said, his eyes falling to his hands, remembering how cold her fingers had been in the ambulance. This only happened mere hours ago, but to Will, they seemed a lot longer, farther into the past. "I tried to wake her up, but she wouldn't. She had a large cut on her head, her face was bruised and her body was curled up, like she tried to protect herself…I…I don't know. Then that large guy, uh, Mario walked in…she was still bleeding."

De Luca hadn't interrupted Will's account of what happened and by then, he was already nodding. He'd heard Mario's side of the story and though he wouldn't tell Will or anyone from his camp, he hadn't really seen any reason to bring him in as well. But orders were orders, someone wanted to see Will Gardner in the precinct, giving his testimony.

"That's all you remember, Mr. Gardner?" De Luca asked, glancing at Alicia who looked somber, the brash lawyer she displayed herself to be prior to Will Gardner's testimony shrouded by her show of obvious sympathy. The woman was still definitely human after all. "You didn't see or hear anyone?"

"No."

"Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt Miss Lockhart?"

"Honestly, no," he said, shaking his head slightly. "I-I never expected anything like this to happen to Diane, of all people. She's always been careful."

"Returning to your discussions," De Luca said as Will shifted slightly in his seat, "In all your discussions and disagreements. Have you ever come to physical blows?"

"What? Of course not," Will sounded genuinely affronted. "I wouldn't lay a hand on any woman, _especially _Diane."

"What about Miss Lockhart? Has she ever hit you?" De Luca asked, completely unfazed about having offended Will. "Or get physical when you have your discussions? Nothing instigated by Miss Lockhart?"

"No, _of_ _course not_," Will said vehemently, the question taking away the somberness recalling the incident brought in. "Diane does not hit or get physical with _anyone_. She doesn't like violence of any kind. She isn't a violent person."

De Luca nodded, "I'll ask again, do you have any idea who would want to harm Miss Lockhart? Someone with a grudge maybe—ex-boyfriend or anyone like that?"

Will shook his head slowly, "Diane has had relationships in the past, but I've never heard or suspected any of them ending badly. She's private person, she prefers to keep personal things out of her professional life."

"Tell me, Mr. Gardner," De Luca said, leaning back as he watched the lawyer with hooded eyes.

"If her life or safety was being threatened, would Miss Lockhart tell you?"

-o0o-

Replying to one of Kate's many messages that morning, Annie found herself sitting by the hospital bed of her boss. So far, mid-morning, she was yet to see any sign of stirring from the unconscious woman. The nurse had come in earlier, attached an intravenous drip as per Dr. Nolan's recommendation to further help his patient along by making sure she was hydrated and was being administered proper nutrients.

Annie had watched while still attached to her phone, trying to track whatever she could help finish from the hospital in the office. So far, she had successfully passed on Diane's minor cases—the one from the Wentworth & Lennox protest included— to associates Annie knew she trusted implicitly, one of them being Julius Cain. Annie didn't have a problem with Julius either and was more than glad to be sure her boss' priorities would be well taken care of in her absence.

The last thing, she was sure, Diane needed the moment she _barrels _her way back into the office was to find her entire case files in disarray. _Barrel _being the operative word. Will Gardner was thinking he could _make_ her stay at Dr. Nolan's two to three day advice for hospital stay, but Annie would give them a day and a half or, at the very least, as soon as Diane Lockhart could walk, talk and speak properly and perfectly before she decided to bust herself out.

Annie could very well guess the only thing that would keep her boss in bed was either to be _made to _sleep, meaning sedatives and/or the like _or _if anyone dared, to just chain her to the bed. She hid her smile on those two sad choices, because either way, if they were really intending to keep the firecracker of a woman in Mercy Grace then they better be prepared for some pain.

She imagines Diane Lockhart would be the first to ever perform _emergency _castration in Chicago using, being the nearest at her disposal, the tube of an IV line.

Shaking her head and looking forward more to her boss' return to the living, Annie also made a mental note to ask and/or _beg_ Kate to messenger her report to her curmudgeon of a professor who didn't want emailed papers and instead demanded hard copy works. Annie was sure in the end she would be thankful to Diane for convincing her to do this, but the paralegal studies thing was seriously giving her second thoughts. It wasn't the first time, but still, it had to be worth it, in the end. She just needed to suck it up.

Once again, Annie wondered just how Diane managed to talk her into taking up paralegal studies. One minute, Diane was strolling out of her office on an unusually quiet day at the firm, ready for a chat next thing Annie knew, she was being lulled into "giving paralegal studies a try" since she "seemed so against trying law itself". Never in her life had Annie ever imagined she'd be taking up anything involving law. She always thought she'd become a teacher or something.

Diane thought otherwise and said so.

That day, as Diane sauntered off with a smile just as a client walked in to her side of the office, Annie already had a few names on a pad, in her boss' handwriting, about who to talk to for checking out the next semester. Two months later, Annie was stepping into her first class a half hour after she left the firm after work. Now, she only had less than a year left before it was over.

Annie was sure if Diane Lockhart ever decided to follow her father's footsteps, she would have no problem winning not only allies in Congress and other positions, but the voters' attention and admiration as well. She was charming and articulate, cunning and manipulative at will and had no problem talking to any type of people. The woman, it seemed, literally could do anything.

Which was why she had to wake up already and be in tip-top shape, Annie thought as she glanced at the sleeping woman and wondered for what seemed the millionth time how this could happen. Who would do such a thing? Was it a random act of violence or did someone really set out to hurt her? The latter choice sent more than a tingle of fear down her spine. It was terrifying to think someone had planned on doing this, had waited for an opportunity to hurt Diane.

Annie couldn't bear to think about that, but somehow she found herself running names through her mind. She was around Diane often and knew people who came in and out of her office, she took calls for her, sorted her mail and everything else so she knew she was one of the people closest to her. She'd seen the woman at her best and nearing her worst.

It would only be logical to think the police would come to question her since, as Kate had informed her, they also came into the firm to question a few people. Annie would tell them everything she knew but as she went through everything in the last few weeks and months, she was sure nothing had been out of the ordinary. Diane went about her work, sometimes met with a few friends, went to a few parties and dealt with her big cases and managed the firm. If they asked Annie if she had any enemies, she'd have to say no.

Diane was cutthroat in the business and she was a shark in the courtroom, but outside she was pleasant and only let her claws out when she was provoked. The last time Annie had witnessed Diane display any hostile behavior was when Malcolm Overby had come by a few days earlier, but even then, she'd covered it well.

Looking back on that day, Annie remembered she'd been curious about that exchange. The first time she'd seen Malcolm with Diane the woman had been smiling invitingly, standing close to him and allowing him in her personal space. Annie remembered her laugh echoing from her office. But then, after that, he hadn't returned and then, a day or two after, Annie had observed Diane had stopped taking his calls and he, after being refused so many times, gave up. Annie had been so sure there was something there.

Then he came back, just a few days ago and talked to Diane. The doors had been closed but Malcolm hadn't stayed long. He barely nodded a goodbye to Annie and Diane had shut her office doors closed the moment he left the threshold. For the rest of the day, Diane had holed herself up in her office and only came out to say goodbye.

Annie wondered if that was worth telling the police about then decided, glancing at Diane again, that while she didn't know the man enough to think he'd be capable of doing what someone had done to Diane, she'd have to tell them anyway. She was in no position to judge and therefore would leave that up to the ones who were. Annie wanted to keep Diane safe and if anyone posed a threat, she'd try and do something about it. If Malcolm did nothing wrong, then he'd have no problem with the police.

Convinced she'd come to the right decision, Annie decided it was time again to check Diane's email. She'd have to thank whichever god was responsible for technology because without her phone, email and wireless internet, Annie knew she was better off dead. They helped make her job and her life easier.

Suppressing a yawn, Annie only realized how tired she was already. She'd slept late the night before after going over her notes for one of her classes and then Will had called long before she was due to wake up. Grabbing the cup of coffee she'd sworn to stay away from for a while, Annie took a tentative sip then grimaced. It had gotten cold already, but the disgusting shock was enough to wake her up temporarily.

She had drawn the shades in hopes the soft sunlight would wake up Diane. She needed her rest, but Annie was also anxious to make sure she really was alright she thought let her go back right back to sleep after confirming that she was really alive and okay.

Maybe it was selfish, but Annie had spent the last the hour alternating between sitting in vigil and going in and out to take care of the calls she'd been getting from people who were concerned for her boss. Annie wanted to say she was fine and actually _know _she wasn't lying or saying anything by mistake.

There hadn't been any visitors and she'd expected that for reasons like the fact that Will Gardner had drawn up confidentiality agreements with the hospital, stating, among other things, that only Will and the people he allowed were permitted to confirm whether Diane was indeed in Mercy Grace or not. And since they'd only been there for a few hours, it was still much too early for people to dare go and visit.

Still, Annie expected people, or at least _things _to come soon enough. She'd been around long enough to know how things worked in politics and various Chicago social circles, many of which Diane was popular in. Whether she was loved or hated or simply admired, it didn't matter because either way, they knew who Diane Lockhart was.

By instinct, just as she was putting her coffee back, she heard the door behind her open. Immediately she turned to look then tensed when she saw a man enter the room, not wearing the hospital uniform, but rather an impeccable suit that could be Armani.

He was tall and lean with bluish-gray eyes that didn't spare one look at Annie as they settled unwaveringly on the figure on the bed. His sandy hair had tones of silver in it and Annie was sure this was a man her friend Jenny would easily purr 'Silver Fox' at. He was handsome with patrician features and would have been more so if his face didn't look as if it had been set in stone, his features hard and serious.

"Excuse me, may I help you?" Annie asked, her heart thumping against her chest. For some reason, she still had that fear that whoever hurt Diane would come back. It seemed silly to her at first, but now, seeing towering man with only her to be there for her suddenly vulnerable boss, Annie could not help but think it wasn't that silly after all.

The man's eyes flickered over to her and she realized he must have not noticed she'd been there when he entered. His features slackened, long fingers reaching up to run over his hair, messing up the strands a little but it did nothing negative to the way he looked.

"I didn't see you there," his voice wasn't scary, but it was deep and fit in well with his features. "Who are you?"

"Someone who should be asking you that question," she said coolly as she stood up, feeling incredibly small and vulnerable in her seat. Annie tried to stand taller though even then she knew she could not match the man with all of her five feet and two inches.

"Ah, a hell cat," he muttered, more to himself as he nodded. "Should have known."

"Excuse me?" Annie wondered if he was from the psych ward a few floors up. "Who _are _you?"

"Half the time of my childhood, I didn't know," he said simply. "But they called me Dan."

"Dan?"

"Or you can call me what my ex-wife called me, _jackass,_" he said with a slight curl on the corner of his lips. "I'm kidding. She called me something worst, depending on her mood."

Annie tilted her head to the side, unsure whether or not she should be scared or nervous or _both_, "Okay. This conversation is getting weird. I'm Annie."

"Annie," he said, her name rolling off his tongue easily. "Okay, hello, Annie. I'm Dan."

"Yes, you said that but—"

"Daniel," he said this time, grinning at how he'd managed to wind her up so quickly. She was tough, but easily flustered. "Daniel Lockhart."

-o0o-

"…if her life or safety was being threatened, would Miss Lockhart tell you?"

"I'd like to say yes," Will said, "But in the recent weeks things have been…hectic. A few cases have left us little time to see each other outside of our firm. Last night would have been the first time in a long time I'd been able to drop by her place."

"So, no one?"

"No. I'm not sure, I could be wrong."

"Okay," De Luca nodded, "Mr. Gardner, do you know a Mr. Jeffrey Spellman?"

Will's brows furrowed, glancing at Alicia who looked just as clueless, "No, I don't think so."

"He was a drug dealer who was sentenced ten years ago for double murder," De Luca said as he began to flip pages in his notepad. "He was released on parole recently."

"What does this have to do with me or Diane?" he asked, though he had a feeling this was something he didn't want to know.

"When he was sentenced, he promised he would kill his lawyer," De Luca said as his darker eyes met Will's lighter ones. "Miss Lockhart was his lawyer."

Will straightened up, "What?"

He tried to remember if Diane had ever mentioned that name, but he couldn't, at least not at that moment. Will was sure that if she'd ever mentioned a case she'd lost and a client promising to come after her, he'd remember. He was sure that was something he wouldn't forget.

And the fact that the guy was even qualified for parole would have given him all the more reason not to forget about the matter. Decisions like granting paroles did not come easily and Will would have kept an ear out for any developments. It was easy enough to find out status of cases and inmates around Chicago, especially for someone with a lot of solid connections like Will.

"He made threats on Miss Lockhart's life as he was being taken out of court by the bailiff ten years ago," De Luca continued. "And we have it on good authority that _after _Miss Lockhart spoke against his parole hearing a few weeks ago. I'm willing to bet he made more threats."

Will clenched his fist, his jaw tightening up to the point his teeth were about to start grinding against each other. Diane hadn't told him _anything _about what the detective was telling him now. How could she not tell him? Her life was being threatened, how could she not? She _spoke _in his hearing, spoke _against _a man who murdered two people. How could she keep that from him?

"They let him _out_?" Will growl, barely feeling the constraining hand Alicia had on his arm.

Did Diane willingly risk her life just because she was angry _at _him? Had she stopped trusting him? Is that how bad things were getting between them? She didn't trust him with her safety and her well being. How could she? Did she not care for her safety? If she had talked to him, he would have done something. If she needed protection he wouldn't have hesitated to help her.

Will wondered what the hell was going on with her mind. She should have told him, as far as he was concerned, she should have told him. He deserved to know. It wasn't just a matter of their personal relationship, but it also touched base with professional. By leaving herself vulnerable, she ultimately did the same with the firm, as far as Will was concerned.

"A few weeks ago for good behavior, yes. You were not aware of any of this?" De Luca inquired needlessly. If the disbelieving tone in his voice wasn't indication enough, the mix of shock, anger and confusion would have been enough to tip a blind man off.

"No," he gritted out. "Do you think if I knew I would have let her walk around by herself? I'd have gotten her protection, made her take necessary precautions to make sure she was safe!"

"Detective," Alicia said, planting her hand firmly on Will's forearm, "Clearly my client was not privy to this fact and _clearly_, you already have a potential suspect. My only question is why he isn't the one being questioned right now?"

De Luca nodded, "We've contacted his parole officer and they're bringing him in, Mrs. Florrick. We just made sure to question Mr. Gardner about recent events concerning Miss Lockhart."

Will's eyes fell on the shiny top of the table, his mind recalling the events of the day and when he looked at De Luca again, he remembered to ask a question that had been niggling him the moment Kalinda had began to explain to him why they were on their way to the firm. "Detective, mind if I ask _you _a question?"

"Shoot."

"How did you know about the recent situation between me and Diane?" he was sure Kalinda had said it was an anonymous tip, but who would do something like that? There was a possibility someone was trying to make trouble for him at the firm.

"An anonymous tip called the station," De Luca answered. "Said something about you and Miss Lockhart not getting along and that we should make sure you had nothing to do about what happened to you partner."

"Do you have any idea who or where the call came from?"

"No," the detective replied. "With technology these days, it's not that easy anymore." He scoffed, "Plus those damned CSI shows don't make it any easier for us too. Makes our jobs harder, actually…giving people ideas what _not _to do so they won't get caught."

"I take it you're not a fan," Will muttered.

"You think? I'm a cop," De Luca replied, "You think I want a criminal to know I'd catch him if he sheds a hair? 'Course not."

A knock on the door interrupted what was supposed to be a questioning that had swiftly reverted to bashing of shows. A young cop poked his head in, motioning with his head for the detective to follow him. Will glanced at Alicia who looked just as baffled as him.

"'Scuse me," De Luca said, "Kid's new. The older ones know better than to interrupt…"

The detective pushed his seat back, making a grating sound with the floor and the bottom of the chair then lumbered out. He did not look at all impressed about being pulled out.

"It's almost over," Will said, glancing at the one way mirror where he knew, on the other side, held some interested viewers. He wasn't sure who would be there, but somehow he felt there was a reason why he was brought all the way to the precinct and it wasn't Detective De Luca.

Alicia nodded, "You've answered all—"

Suddenly, the door opened again and this time, De Luca did not look as neutral as before. His face had darkened, eyes almost black as he stood in front of the seated lawyers.

"What?" Will asked, standing uncertainly. He didn't like the look on his face and somehow, he felt his heart began to race, "It's not Diane, is it? What's going on?"

"We got a call from Spellman's parole officer," De Luca began. "He hasn't reported in to work since yesterday morning."

"_What?_" Will said in disbelief as Alicia stood up as well.

"Does anybody know where he could be?" Alicia cut in, her fingers sinking into Will's forearm like talons. She knew him, how he could react to this and she could not have him blowing up where there was an officer without strangling distance.

De Luca shook his head, looking grave, "He's in the wind."

Will clenched his fists, "You're kidding."

"We're sending out some people to track him down, putting up a BOLO—"

The detective went on to explain what they were doing, but Will couldn't listen to it. The stress of recent events, thinking of solutions on how to keep the firm above water, misinformed news, being dragged in front of the media and sitting in the cramp dirty box were beginning to grate on his lastfrayed nerve.

Will could not begin to fathom the thought of a criminal getting out and attempting to hurt his partner and the said partner being entirely aware of the possibility he was coming back for her without even talking to him or warning him. All this was happening for so many reasons and yet they came back to one person: Diane.

He was _very _angry, he felt betrayed and he was exhausted. He could feel his blood boiling in his veins, hear the pounding of his heart in his ears and felt his balled hands begin to tighten and tense further, nails digging into his skin enough to sting.

What the hell was she thinking? He seethed silently. There was a madman gunning for her and she didn't think it right to let him know? A hint, a sign, hell, even a goddamned office memo—_whatever—_as long as she'd have told him and he, at least, could have tried to do something. She hated being fussed at but that was not a goddamned excuse at all. She _should have _told him and he hoped, for her sake, she had an explanation for such a foolish move.

Half-assed, logical or even a convoluted yet believable reason—as long as she had one, he'd listen. She argued cases for a living and Will hoped she better argue this one like she'd never had before. Stubborn, self-reliant and certifiably insane woman, that's what she was. Will was so angry, he could wring her neck himself.

If Diane had told him, Will thought this could have been avoided. He'd have had her barricaded or even watched twenty-four-seven until they were sure she was safe.

Now the goddamned convict was in the wind and, hell, had he gone after Diane and skipped town? Will felt his jaw tighten at the thought, imagining so many scenarios how could have all been avoided. He was caught up in his anger at the situation, at Diane, at Spellman and whatever god was doing this to them all, before Will knew it, he was slamming his fist against the metal table in front of him, startling both Alicia and De Luca.

"SON OF A BITCH!"

-o0o-

"Oh, my god," she gasped. "I'm _so _sorry. I…I didn't know."

Dan smiled, "No, it's fine. I guess I got a little distracted, I didn't notice you." He glanced at his sister, "As for the name. Well, it's just something Danni and I like doing together."

"Danni?"

"My sister," he said as he walked to the other side of the bed, motioning for her to take her seat again. "She never liked her name and didn't like that I had a nickname," he smiled a little. "She took Danny, demanded she be called _that_ with an 'I' and resigned me to 'Dan'. It confused Dad for a while, but he'd have brought her the moon if she asked. We got used to it so every time someone called me Danny, she'd answer."

Annie grinned, "She must have been something."

"She was," Daniel nodded, "Still is. I think we were six at that time."

Annie frowned, "We?"

"Oh, you don't know?" he turned to her, "Well, Danni's always been the private one and if it's not evident yet, I'm the blabber mouth. Danni and I, well, we're twins." He brought his pointer finger to his mouth, tapping his bottom lip, "I can't imagine why, of all things, she would hide the fact that she was a twin."

"Really? I mean, you're really twins?" she'd seen the similarities with their eyes, hair color and the height, but she'd easily chalked it all off to genetics. Her boss was a twin? She never said a thing. In fact, nobody did. Was it possible no one knew?

"Yes. We _really _are twins, but fraternal, of course," he continued, "Only Danni always hated I was born first."

"First?" Annie was starting to feel like an idiot repeating his words but the shock the recent revelation about her boss still had her on shaky ground.

"Two minutes and three seconds ahead," he said, looking smug. "I remind her, every year, and she pretends it still bothers her. She likes humoring me, you see." He shook his head as he stepped into the room, closer to the bed. "Not that it mattered. I was stronger, of course, but she was always smarter."

"Not that I minded," he said as he blindly, he tried to reach for her hand, but drew back when he touched something hard. "Oh."

"They-they had to put a cast on," Annie said helpfully. "She had a broken wrist."

"At least it wasn't her right one," he said with a slight nod. "It would have driven her insane."

"Yeah," Annie agreed, "I'm glad you could make it so soon. Would you like me to get you anything, Mr. Lockhart?"

"No," he shook his head as he pulled another seat next to the bed. "But thank you. And it's Dan. Mr. Lockhart was our father."

She nodded, "Your secretary said you just flew in…from Egypt?"

Annie hoped to make conversation as she tried to wrap her mind around the things she was yet to uncover about her boss. Her brother was definitely not off the mark saying she was private.

"Oh, yes," he nodded, "I went on a dig with some friends who invited me. I wasn't suppose to leave for another three months, but as fascinating as preserved dead bodies are, I have to confess it hasn't been all that thrilling trawling through the uncomfortable heat and lack of the pleasures I've grown shamelessly accustomed to…like ice and animals without halitosis."

Annie couldn't help but chuckle, "I guess you didn't enjoy camel rides?"

"You guessed right," he said with a smile, "But you," he looked at Diane. "You would have loved seeing that camel spit on me. Nasty little thing he was. You would have loved him, Danni."

She watched as slowly, he reached out and touched the bandage on his sister's head, closing his eyes briefly before taking a deep breath. Annie almost felt ashamed, feeling as if she was intruding on a moment that no one should have witnessed.

"Who hurt you?" Daniel whispered though Annie still heard him, "Tell me and you know I'll do whatever you want…like before." He let his fingers touch her hair gently, "I'm here now, Danni, and I'm staying. I'm here."

Deciding it best she leave them be, Annie slowly stood up, but was halted when Daniel spoke, "We protected each other when we were kids. It was always easier when we had each other. Do you have brothers or sisters, Annie?"

"One sister," Annie replied. "She's younger than me, the baby of the family."

"It's tough, isn't it? Being the older one," he shook his head, drawing his hand back from Diane and settling back in his seat. "As much as Danni hated it, she was always my little sister. Dad and I, well, we were old fashioned that way and she was always going to be the baby."

"Bet she didn't like that," she imagined Diane didn't appreciate being seen as someone that had to be protected. She liked protecting people, that was her personality.

"No, she fought it every chance she could," he replied. "Not that it made much of a difference. It kind of sucks being the big brother sometimes because I always used to know what to do, but…well, something changed."

Annie, at a loss of what to say, remained quiet as she resettled back in her seat.

"I suppose she grew up," he said, watching his sister sleep. "She grew tougher, stronger and she learned that she could take on anyone and anything. She was always like that, but realizing it was different for her. It changed her."

"She grew completely independent?" Annie guessed. She imagined it changed a lot of things, having gone through the same thing with her sister, though she silently agreed with Daniel. No matter what age, her sister would always be the baby of their family.

"Maybe," he shrugged, "I don't know, but she stopped needing me, needing anyone…well, except Dad. Every kid will always need their dad, right?"

"Definitely," Annie said, missing her own.

"It gave me the freedom to travel though," he said wryly. "Danni convinced me to do it, to see the world just as I always wanted. I was a big fan of Around the World in 80 Days and I always told Danni eighty days would never be enough."

"How long is enough?" Annie wondered, enjoying how much she was learning of her boss now. The more she knew, the more she appreciated the woman.

"I've been bouncing off one part of the world to another for the better part of twenty-five years," he said with a boyish grin that revealed a dimple on his cheek. If he wasn't her boss' brother, Annie was sure she'd be swooning now. "I'm not even close to done yet."

"But you're staying now?" Annie couldn't help but ask.

"The rest of the world can wait," Daniel nodded. "My baby sister needs me now."

-o0o-

After getting the call from a furious Will, Kalinda found herself heading towards Mercy Grace Hospital, driving hard and fast as he explained to her that while there were no solid suspects yet, Jeffrey Spellman was missing and the police were still in the process of trying to find him.

The local news stations, after only speaking with Kalinda, had once again made quite a blunder. Without waiting for the promised call from Will, one of the stations announced that they had made a mistake and that Diane was alive and recuperating after surgery. It would have been fine there after an apology was also issued, but they must have had an eager set of bunch because managed to add in which hospital Diane was staying in.

Will, sounding angrier than the investigator had heard in a while, had told her that there was a possibility _if_ Spellman had not been the one responsible for what happened the night before, the information about where Diane currently was and that was she was, essentially, vulnerable might just alert Spellman to make a move. Kalinda did not need to be told twice and knew she would have come to the same conclusion so she didn't hesitate to head to the hospital.

They had sent uniformed officers to make sure Diane was alright, but Kalinda knew they would take a while to get there so she decided she'd wait for them to arrive. With any luck, nothing would happen, but with a basket case like Spellman, all bets were off. Kalinda knew too well people who commit double murder and deal drugs weren't the most stable individuals.

She was not entirely informed on Diane's condition, but she'd spoken with the few people involved in the investigation and had pieced together that while her boss had survived the attack, she had been hurt and would need to take time to recuperate. Having Spellman trying to take her out while in the hospital was indeed a volatile situation, one Kalinda was sure would not end well for them.

Packed with a loaded gun—and breaking the law carrying a concealed weapon—Kalinda slipped into the hospital entrance, quickly scanning the lobby for Spellman. She'd made sure to carry a copy of his mug shot and memorized the way he looked. Finding him nowhere, she headed up the elevators, keeping her senses sharp and focused while looking completely calm.

Watching the numbers glowing in the panel, Kalinda waited until the car hit three then stepped out, smiling at a little boy who waved at her goodbye. Heading to the nurses' station, she grabbed the first one's attention.

"Good morning," she said in a polite but firm tone. "Is there a patient under the name Diane Lockhart here?"

"I…" the young blonde nurse, probably fresh out of college looked uncertain. "Well…we, er…"

"Who would you be, Miss?" an elderly African-American woman asked, rising from her seat at the corner.

"My name is Kalinda," she replied. "I work with Miss Lockhart at Lockhart & Gardner," she pulled out her ID from the firm. "Will Gardner sent me."

"Mr. Gardner sent you," the woman repeated, reaching for a piece of post-it then nodded. "Full name, Miss?"

"Kalinda Sharma," she replied, glad that at least that they were taking Will's confidentiality contract seriously even if the reason for it had already been blown by the news.

"Of course," the woman nodded, "Room 316, Miss Sharma. There's already someone inside, so please, don't disturb the patient. Miss Lockhart needs her rest."

"There's someone there? You mean her assistant?" Kalinda asked, slipping her hand in her jacket where she'd hidden the small handgun she'd taken in. She had managed to get a gun inside the hospital, how much more Spellman?

"No, a man, but—"

"Thank you," Kalinda said with a slight wave of her hand, moving fluidly down the hall that would lead her to the room. She moved fast, hand touching her gun already while the other trailed steadily along the wall. She couldn't let the nurses think there was a problem otherwise, they'd just make things more complicated.

She easily reached the door with the numbers 316 were embossed and knocked. She counted in her head, deciding that if there was no answer after ten seconds, she was going on.

_One, two, three…_

"Kalinda!" the door opened after six with a very surprised Annie. "Hi! We weren't expecting you. Come in, please."

She let a ghost of a smile grace her lovely features as she stepped ahead of the brunette, eyes scanning the room and quickly finding a man standing by the bed where Diane lay. Tall was the first thing that came to mind, then handsome and rich followed. The man, with his unbuttoned Italian suit, retrousse nose and inquisitive bluish-gray eyes, oozed 'blueblood' at Kalinda.

Not the type of person she enjoyed mingling with, yet, as he smiled invitingly, she could not help but pass judgment for later.

"Good morning," he said with a slight nod.

She nodded back and noticed the lilt to his voice, well educated came to mind too and the way he spoke told her he came from Chicago but spent a while in foreign countries to have it blend his accents well. She imagined women would fall quite easily for his charms. He was older, but his demeanor was enough for the investigator to guess correctly that he'd often, if not always, be classified as dignified rather than just plain old.

Kalinda imagined _girls _with daddy issues easily folded around him.

"This is Kalinda Sharma, she's the in-house investigator of the firm," Annie said, smiling at her before turning to the man. "This is Mr. Daniel Lockhart, Miss Lockhart's brother."

"Ah, Miss Sharma," he said with an easy smile as he walked towards Kalinda with an outstretched hand, "My sister speaks highly of you. Call me Dan, please."

She's always had an excellent poker face, but even that one caught the Indian woman by surprise. Diane spoke about her? Interesting, she thought wryly as she shook hands with her boss' brother.

"A pleasure," he said with an easy smile. "I've been intrigued by you for a while now."

"Really," she said and she could easily imagine he'd be a pro at picking up women. He seemed the type, which she found rather intriguing. How different were the Lockhart siblings? Not that it meant Diane had trouble picking up men, but there were obvious differences there.

"Yes, it's a shame we're meeting at such…unfortunate circumstances," he said as he gestured to the seat he'd just vacated. "Please, sit."

"No, it's fine," she said, waving her hand slightly. "I'm here to make sure things are going okay."

Annie looked confused for a moment, "Okay? Of course, why?"

"Will called," she said simply.

"Oh!" Annie said suddenly, taking out her phone. "I'm sorry, I was suppose to call Mr. Gardner about Mr. Lockhart! I completely forgot…crap."

"Will? As in, Will Gardner?" Daniel said, refusing to take his seat back which left all three of them standing.

"Yes," Annie said, looking distracted now. "Kate mentioned he was speaking with the police so I thought I'd call him later."

"He's done talking now," Kalinda said though she didn't bother telling her about his mood. She wouldn't have to. Will was many things, but taking out his anger on subordinates was not something he did…much.

"I think I met him once," Daniel said as Annie excused herself. "Please, sit, Miss Sharma. I feel funny standing and my mother, along with a few other choice _teachers_, were all too kind to drill in my mind some silly thing they liked calling manners."

Kalinda nodded and took Annie's seat, if only to get him to stop talking about it.

"Thank you," he said with a smile as he returned to his seat, "Now that little Miss Annie is no longer here, why don't you tell me the real reason why you came? You hardly seem the type to drop by hospitals just to visit."

He was perceptive, she'd give him that.

"If it's pertinent to what happened to my sister, I'd like to know," he said, the smile gone now as it was replaced by a rather dark and serious look. Now, Kalinda could see the familial resemblance. That look was very much like Diane's.

"Your sister was attacked in her home last night," she said, looking him in the eye as she did so. "The police have no specific suspects except one, a Jeffrey Spell-"

"The bastard," Daniel spat, his face growing even darker. "I heard he's still living, no surprise there. How is the bottom dwelling son of a bitch?"

"Out on parole."

"_Excuse me?"_

"The police are trying to find him but his parole officer hasn't seen him since yesterday," she decided it was better to be honest with the man.

"You're saying they let that goddamned bastard _out_?" Daniel stood up and if possible, he seemed a lot taller than before. Kalinda could see he was more than upset by the news.

"She didn't tell you."

"No," he said with a slight snarl, looking down on his sister. "But how can I be surprised? She's partly insane, did you know that? _This _is proof."

He sat back down, "Why didn't you tell me?" he directed his question at the sleeping woman. "Of all the insanely _stupid_ things you could hide, you hide _this _from me? Was it because I said I'd have him killed? I wasn't kidding, you know…or is that why?"

Clearly, brother dearest had no problem talking about killing and taking a life. Will the differences never end? Kalinda wondered thoughtfully.

"Danni," he sighed, sounding frustrated, "I'm telling you, ridding the world of one scumbag _won't _end it. In fact, by my calculations, it would increase the chances of it being _better_."

Kalinda watched as he bowed his head, fully resting it on the bed as he laced his fingers through the strands of his hair. He was obviously upset about being kept in the dark, just like Will and Kalinda wondered who else Diane had told, other than her.

The older woman had not even chosen to confide with her and rather only told her because she _had to_. She obviously did not want to know and wanted to deal with matters herself. Was it a matter of trust? Or had Diane grown so used to not having anyone to depend on, she'd mistakenly risked her life in the process of trying to be completely independent?

Not that she'd blame the woman. Kalida lived by the same rules in general. She was used to doing things her way and dealing with her own problems by herself. Granted, her new found allegiance with Alicia Florrick was somewhat of a change, she'd trust the woman with evidence and a few personal information, but would she freely bet her life and safety on her? Maybe, maybe not, but not because she didn't trust her—Kalinda just knew how to take care of herself better than Alicia could.

Then again, Kalinda wasn't stranded by her beliefs like Diane Lockhart. The woman gave up a gun because of her family's history, her beliefs and fear that she felt _too _powerful with the firearm. Clearly she was struggling with an innate battle of morals, personal history and her inability to accept the _other_ shades of gray. Sure, Diane knew life wasn't just black and white, but certain beliefs tended to make her forget that sometimes. Case in point would be her love-hate relationship with guns.

A part of Diane obviously wanted a gun, for protection but didn't like the feeling of absolute power it brought with it. With a single piece of heavy metal, a lead bullet and a matter of where to aim, to her, the _thing_ represented an unequivocal right to judge who lived or died. The woman wanted power, but not _that _kind of power. It was a contradiction of sorts and something she clearly struggled with.

"I'm not a homicidal maniac," Daniel said, pulling Kalinda out of her thoughts. "I just don't like anyone hurting my sister."

"Understandable," she replied. She'd kill anyone who dared hurt her brother. Ain't nothing but a family thing.

"They let that bastard out, I'll kill them too," he said resolutely. "The things he said to her, things he promised he'd do to her…son of a bitch was lucky she managed to make me stay away."

"I know he threatened her," she said, realizing she'd find out more if she prodded. He wasn't as secretive or tight lipped as his sister. "But she never told me how."

"He said he'd kill her, slowly," Daniel said, leaning back in his seat and resting his elbows on the arms of the chair, tense hands balled into tight fists. "Said he would inject her full of drugs and he'd laugh while doing it. He wanted to make her suffer until she _begged _for death. He accused her of making them lose. He knew she didn't approve being assigned his case."

Kalinda nodded, "What else?"

"He sent her a few letters the first few months in prison, but in time they stopped," he went on. "She never showed me, but they scared her enough to call me at four in the morning across the Atlantic. She doesn't scare easy, I'm sure you know that, so you can probably imagine the severity of the situation at the time."

"I can," she nodded. She often wondered how Diane would look if she was terrified or nearing a breakdown. It was perverted but it made her wonder anyway. The woman just looked _too _together ninety-nine point nine percent of the time, she imagines it must be exhausting.

"I'm sure she kept them," he scoffed. "Not sure if she ever opened them again. Hell, I'm not even sure if he sent her another letter. Did he threaten her when he got out?"

"Yes," no use lying.

"And they think he's responsible for," he gestured to his sister. "This?"

"He's a suspect."

"But they're not sure?" he asked inquisitively, "Tell me, exactly how many people want my darling sister dead?" He pulled his phone out, "I need an estimate to see how many people I need to have killed."

"Conversations like this could get you in trouble," blueblood or not, she was starting to find this Lockhart amusing in an all too different way.

"Well worth it in the long run, I think," he said, looking all too serious for this to be a joke. "So, have any answers for me, Miss Sharma? My sister thinks you're quite capable of getting…answers. I believe she called you a 'one-woman mafia' at one point. She meant it with complete adoration, of course."

"Of course," she echoed with a slight grin. Did Diane have any idea how talkative her brother was? He wouldn't make a very good secret keeper for anyone, it seemed. "But I'm afraid I can't give you what you want at the moment, but…given time..."

She let unspoken words finish her sentence. He'd get the message, he seemed clever enough. Kalinda was finding she liked the darker Lockhart heir. Diane had her moments, but compared to her brother—she was sure this one definitely had a gun.

"Name your price, darling," he purred. "Like I said, it's worth it."

"One," she held up a finger, "I'm not your darling. Two," another finger rose, "I'm not about to make a hit list for you if only because of your sister, my boss. Three," the third finger followed, "I'm a firm believer in time. Killing's too easy. Torture…that's another matter."

"Danni did always give me the impression you were kinky," he chuckled.

"Danni?"

"Why do people always react like that?" he sighed. "Don't you know _anything _about her?"

"I'm starting to find that apparently, we don't," she answered with a small shrug.

"Very well, not like I can blame you," he replied, feigning frustration. "She likes her secrets too much, I think, but since I'm the brother, I get to annoy her with little to no regard for my life, as is my familial right."

He gave her a wicked smile, "_Danni_ is what I call my stubborn dear sister. And it was her choice when she _stole_ it from me. It's Danni with an 'I', by the way, for future references."

She smirked, "Interesting fact."

"Yes, I suppose," he said, waving his hand dismissively then paused, then let a few seconds tic by then added, "_You_ are a woman of a few words."

She smiled, a little.

"I like it!" he said, looking triumphant. "So let's chat. Tell me," he leaned forward, resting his chin on one knuckle. "What exactly _do _you know about my sister?"

"Not much," she said, tilting her head to the side, "Why don't you tell me?"

"Well," he said, rolling his eyes slightly. "Oh, I've got one! But this one is _super _secret so you _can't _tell ANYONE, okay? She'd kill me. Then you."

Daniel stood up, covering his Diane's ears childishly as he leaned across to Kalinda. He made sure to mind her injuries as he gave the younger woman a mischievous smile.

"She fantasizes about you."

- o0oo0oo0o-

I admit, **Daniel** has no shape or form at the moment and may appear…generic and blah, but don't worry. I'll wake up Diane and then we'll see some explosions. Siblings…ain't nothing but a family thing, right?

**Kalinda **got a bit off character, I think, so that means I'm going to have to watch some episodes again to nail her. Grrr.

But obviously, their conversation is FAR from over...lol.

**Alicia, Will **and **De Luca**'s little shindig was not as explosive, right? But I hope it was believable.

There's a distinct possibility we might get a peek on **Jeffrey Spellman **next chapter, but I'm not sure yet. My brain's a bit fried and it was a bitch to write this chapter. I don't know what went wrong, honestly. Total FAIL. Yikes.

Anyhoo, onto brighter topics: BIG CONGRATULATIONS to _Christine Baranski _getting TWO nominations for the Emmys! Fingers and all the rest worth crossing crossed she gets them!

Same goes with Julianna Margulies, Archie Panjabi (I'd be lying if I said I wish she wins, sorry) and the entire cast and crew of The Good Wife. Definitely break-out show of the year! Yay!

As always, would love reviews and comments!

_**Note:**_

_**To Ellie**_  
I hope the thing with Will was okay. They really couldn't arrest him without due cause. And you already know what I think of my Kalinda here so you be the judge. Hm, Kurt's taking a bit to get there but **where exactly does he live **again? For the life of me, I cannot seem to remember.

And I have admit, that "survived by" line was such a tease. You've met Dan and I don't like him right now but with Diane's help, I think I'll be able to shape him better in a bit and learn to like him more as mine. BUT AS FOR Matthew…I'm shutting up about that. Shh. Gimme a bit more time, I swear, he'll be…something.

And about the 'couples'…hm, I honestly cannot decide. Some days, there are scenes where Will and Diane look good, but then I remember scenes with Kurt that were just…wonderful. So, I'm on the fence. I'm not centralizing on romance at the moment yet anyway but I will explore it later, a few chapters along the way. As always, thank you for reviewing. I love your insights.

**_To Maija_**  
Wow, I am very flattered for being your first review! You are too kind. Thank you for the kind words and thank you as well for understanding. I was worried people would stop reading because the following chapters lack the action from the first one, but I need to give them a break, right? I'm glad you see why it's gone a bit quiet.

Thanks very much! I'm very glad you like the little details. I can't help myself with them so I'm glad you guys like them. As for the Bad Guy…oh, who do you think it is? If you want, you can tell me and then we'll see in the end if you get it right. I swear I won't spoil it for you, but I'd love to hear theories on who could it be. Someone I like? Ooh. Do tell. I'm very intrigued.

**EDIT:**

**To answer Ellie's question:  
_Yes, the last scene in the finale with Kurt and Diane was one of the scenes I shamelessly dropped. Basically, they never made up. Don't hate me. Teehee. I'll fix it in my own way later...a lot later, maybe._**


	5. Chapter 5: Things People Say

**Blackout**  
by: raileht  
**  
****Summary:** It was over. The fight in her was almost completely out and she was nearing total exhaustion. She was about to die.

**Disclaimer: **The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.  
**Rating: **T, to be safe  
**Spoilers/Timeline:** post-finale but I've omitted some facts and scenes to better fit the story and you'll figure out which ones I hadn't included along the way. But if you have questions, just ask.

**Warning: **Bad words and a lot of violence right from the start. Will be a somewhat dark story so people will be in pain—physical and emotional. Maybe not for the faint hearted.  
**Warning#2: to big fans of Christine Baranski—**I inserted TWO quotes from the beautiful lady herself and it's up to you to figure out which ones I used. They fit the story/dialogue so I thought it'd be nice to use them since there really was no way I could put it better. So, if you're interested, go seek and tell me which ones…should be fun, eh? Maybe not. Oops.

**Chapter Title taken from:**  
Lady Antebellum, _Things People Say_

-o0oo0oo0o-

**Chapter Five: ****Things People Say**

Kalinda's eyes widened, her interest piqued.

She wondered if she'd spaced out—highly unlikely—or her boss' brother just revealed to her that her boss fantasized about her. Part of her thinks this might be an unfinished sentence, that maybe he was going to say her boss secretly fantasized in killing her, strangling her or something that _wasn't _what one would think when the word 'fantasize' was used with that mischievous smile Daniel Lockhart had on his handsome face.

Kalinda was never one to be easily duped so she waited, knowing that somehow, that sentence wasn't finished, that the man who was acting more like a boy was waiting to say something else. The look on his face was telling enough.

Daniel tried valiantly to hold a straight face before involuntarily bursting into laughter, pulling back gently from his sister's be and settling back in his seat, "Oh! You're such a buzz kill, Miss Sharma. God! Remind me never to play poker with you."

Realizing she had held her breath, the investigator allowed herself to laugh along. Of all the things she could have been told, that one would have never gone in her list. She hadn't meant to laugh along, but it seemed the infectious Lockhart laughter was inherent as she could not help but be affected by the obvious glee that pervaded the older man.

"Danni said you were hard to crack," he said in between giggles. "I'm sorry, I had to give it a try," he said though he sounded anything but. "She'd be saying I told you so right about now."

"She says that a lot to you," she guessed.

"Yes," he smiled, "But mainly, I did it because I heard about what that dolt Roscoe told his," he made his voice squeak mockingly, wiggling his long fingers, "_Nine million viewers_ about my sister. Closeted lesbian, my ass!"

Kalinda knew Diane was many things, but a closet lesbian she was not. Sure, she had an appeal to women, but Kalinda had never seen her showing an interest with the same sex, at least, not serious interest. She's seen the woman around enough men, counting Will, to know the truth. Whatever made Duke Roscoe think that of Diane, Kalinda didn't bother pinpointing what. The man was clearly just another schmuck with a mouth faster than his brain—_if_ he had one.

"No, although she's had a few female admirers," Daniel smiled. "I think my second ex-wife liked her…a lot."

"Second?" for some reason, knowing he'd been divorced and married was not a surprise to her. It was almost expected, actually. She could imagine he had a wandering eye and a penchant for pretty young things—a playboy.

"Unlike my sister, I take time to learn," he said with an easy shrug, seemingly unbothered by his marital failings. Why should it anyway?

"How many wives have you had?" she could easily find out, but he was a sharer so why bother?

"Four, all divorced," he replied. "But in my defense, the second one left me for my son's nanny. But Charlotte or, rather, _Charlie _was extremely drawn to Danni. They went to law school together but she dropped out in the middle—couldn't handle the pressure and decided she'd try her hand at being a chef." He smirked, "Spent hours teaching Danni how to cook."

Kalinda couldn't help but smirk at the thought of an unwitting Diane Lockhart being secretly wooed by her brother's wife. Oh, no wonder the woman had her secrets. Kalinda had guessed right when she pegged the woman to have _more _underneath the whole lawyer persona. The first time she'd met the woman, she'd been tempted to dig more, but decided not to in the end after learning to respect her.

But could she resist when there was a singing canary right in front of her? Kalinda was only human and opportunities like this did not come every day.

"Danni had no idea, of course," he said, running his thumb under his bottom lip. "Doesn't mean to say she was dense or anything. I suppose she just liked Charlie so much—it was like finding the sister she never had—she didn't allow herself to see the signs."

He hummed, "Danni tends to ignore things she doesn't want to see when it comes to people she's attached to and I'm sure you've an idea she doesn't get attached to anyone easily…"

Kalinda nodded, she'd seen that enough with Jonas Stern, the mentor she so cherished. Diane had been in severe denial near the end, refusing to see that while Will was being his conniving self, he had a point concerning the wicked little man. Kalinda knew she was yet to find out about his mental condition and could not even imagine how she would react to that. It was no secret Diane held her mentor in high regard, his deterioration would no doubt affect her.

But it wasn't her secret to tell and she knew if she told Diane, Alicia would face consequences not only personally, but legally as well the moment Stern found out. The man was not fit to be coddled by anyone and, understandably, was living under denial.

"I mean, she was _shocked _about finding out about the nanny whereas I _expected _it," he said with a slight shake of his head. "I don't think she ever forgave Charlie for that."

"You expected it," she repeated. "You _knew _your wife was gay?"

"Well, I'm not _that _thick," he said. "There were signs, but what could I do? I wasn't going to divorce her for loving women…that was one of the few things we had in common."

"So you waited until she left you for the nanny," Kalinda couldn't help but smile and shake her head. The man was something, she'd give him that.

"Yes, I suppose that's one way to put it," he said, as if only now realizing this. "But it wasn't just Charlie. My first wife is still quite fond of my sister. It's _me _she can't stand and in fact still insists on staying in contact with her while she has nothing but scorn for me."

"So, both your first and second wife like your sister," Kalinda summarized, "But not you."

"Yes."

"Doesn't that tell you something?"

"That my sister likes stealing my wives?" he said, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. "Yes but I'm sure she doesn't mean to. For the record, she did put them through the fire before granting them her sisterly seal of approval."

Kalinda could imagine Diane would be as protective of her twin as he was of her. She didn't even want to imagine what kind of 'tests' she put the women through. Still, if they ended up liking her as much as Daniel seemed to make it look, it must've not been so bad.

But recalling just how _creative _Diane could be in the courtroom made Kalinda think otherwise again. She decided to think after passing the initial flaming rings, the wives found reason to like Diane enough to forget the ordeal. Granted the chance, Kalinda was willing to believe Diane could be as soft and friendly as she was hard and intimidating in her lawyer persona.

"Interesting," she paused before adding, "I can't picture you and Diane together."

"Oh?" he drawled out, "Well, she does like being the serious boss, doesn't she? It's like a character for her, she loves playing scary lawyer a lot. We're different, I suppose."

"An understatement," she said with a slight tilt of her head.

"Well, we're not _that _different," he scoffed. "She's very capable of being playful, my sister, but this whole lawyer persona…it-it's very constricting. So many rules and impossibly high standards, though those I'll probably allow you to blame on her…It's the reason why I stopped being a lawyer."

"_You _were a lawyer."

"Yes," he nodded solemnly. "Did the whole school thing and yadda, yadda. Practiced for two years before I finally came to my senses then packed my bags, closed my eyes and had Danni point my finger on the map," he grinned. "Next thing you know, I'm in Spain and cursing myself for not paying attention during Spanish class with the horrid Ms. S…something. I can't recall her name…maybe because I detested her."

"Did you practice at the same law firm, you and Diane?" Kalinda was curious.

"No," he shook his head. "It was hard enough facing professors and judges and having them go, 'Oh, look, it's _the _Lockharts, children of the great Congressman Daniel Archer Lockhart II—they _must be _exceptional'."

He shook his head, "that's why I preferred shortening my name and dropping that damned '3rd'. Bad enough there's two of us, it was just hell having that much to live up to. Not that it did much when people still found out."

Kalinda watched as he waved his hand dismissively, "Comparison really are odious and as much as we loved father dearest, often we found ourselves wishing we didn't have to live up to anything. He was such a great man and back then, the moment people realized exactly how related we were to him and the family, they just outright assumed his progeny would be the same, if not better."

"No pressure, huh?" she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes slightly. When were people ever going to learn that children are never their parents? Kalinda just knew that if it had been her, she'd have showed them again and again just how different she was until it was drilled in their minds who she was and wasn't.

"Yes, you see?" he said with a slight nod, "It wasn't all balloons and roses, as lovely as it was back then, _it took work to be in the family_. Especially for someone as driven as Danni."

"But your sister seems to have managed well," Kalinda said thoughtfully. As respected as their father was, she'd never really heard anyone compare the daughter to his legacy or accused her of being inferior, not that she ever was. Diane had done a good job of making a name for herself.

Kalinda knew Diane's career enough to know she'd never used her connections that way and if she ever had, no one seemed to care enough to mention it. God knew gossips were everywhere, especially around careers like law where _malice _practically bled through walls.

If Diane had ever taken advantage of her family name, Kalinda would have known along with the rest of Chicago. Lord knew there were people who would give an arm and a leg to tear others down, especially someone as respected, successful and frank as Diane. She was good with politics, capable of being a diplomat but not even she could escape irrational hate and scorn born from jealousy and spite.

Though too cowardly to admit it publicly, there were many who would love to see the Diane Lockhart fall from grace and be shamed, pull her down to their level that she had always refused to sink into. She'd always been above such pettiness and, naturally, they hated her for it.

After all, _how dare she be different?_

"She clawed every damned step to the top," Daniel said with a small salute. "It was hell enough for me, sharing the name, but for her? A woman playing lawyer—how laughable some of those misogynistic assholes thought it was. Never mind who her father was, it was funny to them, seeing a woman in a man's job, but…she showed every single one of them."

"She was unstoppable."

"Yes, she was a force to be reckoned with," he nodded in agreement, "Dad adored her. Her greatest fear was always disappointing him—that was her kryptonite. He never asked anything of us, but he was a great father so naturally, we were driven to make him proud."

Kalinda didn't bother to reply. She was getting more insight into her boss, her history that she never seemed to _want _to talk about. She'd only known the basics—political family, law school, glass ceilings and a recognized last name. She'd known there would be _more _but she honestly never knew she'd hear stories like this. The best she'd have hoped for were scandals, but even those Diane lacked.

Then again, there was Daniel. Had she hidden him for a reason? If she had, they'd both done a good job of doing so when barely anyone one at present seemed to know him. Her twin, though they shared a likeness in physical features, was her opposite. He liked to talk, she liked her secrets, he didn't mind privacy, she used it as a way of life. Diane was constricted, held down by her family's legacy, but what about Daniel? He seemed so unburdened, so unconcerned and _free_.

How did he manage to break away from the familial bonds? And why? He didn't hold any open hostility to their past, but clearly, he felt a nudge that pushed him to break free whereas his sister, his _twin, _was left behind to bear the name of the family, be the visible remaining heir.

Was it because she was a woman out to prove herself? Was it their father? Was it her undying desire to make a parent eternally proud? Or was there something holding her back, tying her to her comfort zone, to the only world she'd ever known? And _if _there was something holding her back then what was it?

What could be so strong it essentially took away any desire Diane had that did not involve the world of law, her family legacy and led her to lead a somewhat isolated life?

The more Kalinda was finding out in such a short time, the more questions arose about the woman. She'd known she had secrets, but she'd never imagined they would be this intricate. Humans were simple, easy to figure out and not as mysterious as the romantics and philosophers tended to see them as.

But the things Kalinda was uncovering about the woman she had originally seen as _easy _to figure out and predict, she was finding that what she'd originally thought she knew turned out to be some sort of veil that hid this extremely secretive and isolated individual who had so many untouched and unexplored parts in her being, it made Kalinda wonder if _anyone _ever truly knows her at all.

And though she'd never admit it, she was interested. Somehow, despite the fact that there are admittedly few who could truly catch her interest, she was beginning to be truly fascinated in getting to know Diane Lockhart. It was ironic how these thoughts were only starting to manifest themselves after the woman went through something akin to hell.

Kalinda had almost lost this chance, now all she had to do was decide if she was going to take it.

-o0o-

Time and time again, Christie Kaposi knew her parents had told her never to take the route under the overpass on the way to school. Paranoid and over protective as they were, they always pictured her getting grabbed and murdered viciously in the darkest corners of the shadows, but—blame it on that familiar bug called invincibility that tended to bite most teens—Christie almost always never listened, opting to take the forbidden route when she was nearing being late for homeroom. The route was shorter and therefore helped her get to class faster.

The sixteen year-old rode her bike with no fear or sense of trepidation, riding along the cracked roads, the corner of her eyes spotting abandoned broken grocery carts, homeless people and trash scattered here and there.

She rode fast, not because she was afraid, no, but rather because she'd left home later than usual. Miss Simpson, a nasty old grump, was never to shy from handing out detention for late comers. Christie wanted to avoid that as much as possible or else have her beloved new camera phone confiscated as punishment again.

Detention was never as fun as Breakfast Club made it look. Not like she had Emilio Estevez or was she Molly Ringwald, she thought with a slight scoff. The weird guy from school was nowhere even as nice as that jerk from the movie. The guy in school was just a plain jackass.

Breathing in soft puffs, she passed a blue truck but barely gave it a glance as she made a turn a few feet away from it, not at all finding it odd it was parked in the middle of nowhere in good condition. Stolen cars were about as common as air in the city.

Christie wouldn't have stopped for anything, but in the last moment, the wheel of her bike managed to hit a large crack, wobbled and ultimately made her fall. She was lucky enough to regain her footing and managed to get one foot on the pavement, but her bag managed to fall from its perch around her shoulder.

Cursing in a way her mother would have grounded her for, Christie bent to pick up her bag, scowling as she noticed a few scratches of mud tracked against the pink material of her knapsack. She cursed again, knowing she'd be spending most of her night cleaning the mess. Her dad bought that bag for her.

Resituating her bag on her shoulder again, a puffing Christie looked around, for once worried she might encounter some_thing_. She _felt _something she'd normally call the 'heebie-jeebies', a funny word she couldn't seem to get rid of in her vocabulary, and looked around closely, trying to see if anyone was really coming after her as she dug in her bag for the can of mace her mother insisted she carry everywhere.

Spotting the blue truck, she noticed someone slumped in the front seat and, more out of curiosity than feeling invincible, Christie crept closer, pulling her bike along. The windows were shut and there was a chance the man was only sleeping through the moist windows, but she wanted to make sure. She held on to her mace.

"Sir?" she managed to say, surprised at the tremble in her voice. A part of her told her to walk away or get killed, but her traitorous feet just kept moving forward. "Mister?"

Walking closer with her heart pounding much too loud, she leaned towards the window, peering closer until she could see the side of his face. She thought he was really asleep for a moment, before she noticed a neat hole on his forehead, the trickle of crimson coming from the hole in his head and the dried streaks she'd originally thought was dirt she was now realizing with horror was also blood spattered against the windows.

Christie screamed as she blindly scurried back, dropping her bike, her bag and the can of mace as she hurried to get away and fell on her rear painfully as she tripped. She screamed and screamed, her voice echoing throughout the dirty abandoned area, alerting the homeless and the tired.

She didn't stop screaming until the police came.

-o0o-

"As much as he loathed doing it, Dad tried to talk her out of it," Daniel said, leaning forward on the bed and lifting his hand near Diane's face, fingers tracing the air above the large bruise that covered her cheek.

"He knew he wouldn't be enough to protect her from the pigs and hypocrites and he knew her choice would lead to a lot of painful and humiliating moments," he sighed, "But Danni, even back then, once she set her mind on something, there was no stopping her. Dad was proud, of course and he didn't have enemies, but there were people who were still petty enough to take out their hidden hostility out on his family. So he worried—a _lot_."

"Fathers are supposed to worry," she remarked. "It's what they do."

"Well, dad did that quite well and often," he nodded. "He just didn't want to see her go through that. He didn't respond well to having his only daughter being treated less than he believed she deserved. Danni argued with him only then. She wanted so bad to be a lawyer, to prove to everyone that she could be just as good and possibly be better."

"It seems even then she didn't approve of double standards," Kalinda said, "A woman ahead of her time?"

"Definitely," he agreed readily. "And since she couldn't bend time forward, she decided to take the entire world with her. Women, she decided, needed to show the world that they could make damned good lawyers too."

"How'd she do?"

Daniel tilted his head to the side, observing his sister's peaceful features, "Damned well, I have to say, she did damned well."

Kalinda let a ghost of a smile grace her lovely features, "I'd have to agree."

"She's not as uptight as she tries to appear, you know," Daniel said with a slight frown. "She's quite funny, actually, though not always intentionally so, but funny nevertheless."

She barely nodded, not at all in a hurry to dismiss the notion. Personally, she had never really spent any time with the woman outside the office, other than during company parties although then she'd seen her boss being more approachable in a loose environment.

At those parties, Diane drank, smiled, laughed and even flirted with some people she was more comfortable with, usually with people from the firm she knew well enough to let her guard down with—older senior members and Will when they both felt playful enough. Kalinda knew Diane liked to appear serious and professional, but in those moments, she'd seen that sensuality and other alluring qualities she hid so well. It was a nice change on those occasions, it showed that she wasn't always so constricted or subdued.

"When we were children," Daniel said, leaning back in his seat with a grin and Kalinda knew this was going to be a good story. "During parties where she knew our parents' friends would be coming, she'd be upset they'd send us to bed early and would sneak in my room and drag me with her to go down and spy on the grown ups.

"The little imp would pull me right out of bed and into the backstairs and we'd crawl along the floors, hiding behind furniture," he went on. "We'd watch the men drink and smoke, the beautifully dressed women laugh and dance. Mother and father would never be too far apart and always, they'd find time to grab a moment in the dance floor."

"Sounds nice," she said quietly, unwilling to break the softer air that seemed to surround Daniel as he reminisced. She was seeing the quieter side of him and it was nice, without the childish antics, the façade of playfulness. He was still charming without trying.

"Once, after a particularly unpleasant round of goodnights with mother, Danni found being sent to bed _too _early—in her opinion—was unfair," he grinned. "But mother was firm when she needed to be and she'd sent Danni to bed after a few protests. Oh, sister dearest was so angry, she slammed the door when she came into my room."

"What did she do?" she could guess the persistent little Lockhart twin would do something.

"Well, she wanted to join the party and since mother said it was not good for young ladies to sleep so late, she decided she _wasn't _going to be a lady," he said with a shrug. "She grabbed one of the suits mother enjoyed making me wear, put it on and fixed herself up."

Kalinda shook her head slightly, that ghost of a smile on her face again.

"She slicked her hair back, tied in a very low ponytail, tucked the suit around her tiny frame, put on my shiny black shoes and started walking around my room imitating the way Dad walked," he waved his hand. "I followed—put on a suit, grabbed a pair of shoes and fixed my hair." He chuckled, "We stood in front of the mirror, side by side, and for once, we realized just what people meant when they called us the Lockhart Twins."

"We looked alike though not exactly," he went on, "And before I knew it, Danni was out of the room and marching down the stairs. She even managed to grab this old gold pocket watch our grandfather owned and passed on to dad then me, swinging the chain like a pro."

"She has a flair for the dramatics," she'd witnessed that in court too.

"Yep," he grinned, "So we're at the party and she comes in swaggering, chin set proudly, that upturned nose higher than usual and looking every bit the gentleman." He laughed, "Our parents were somewhere else in the house, but this guest, one of mother's new friends, was kind enough to inform them how much she adored their twin _boys_."

"Bet they didn't like that."

"Oh, well, after getting over the shock, they laughed along," he said, "Father was quick to pick up Danni and pull her hair free, proudly revealing his naughty daughter to everyone. Mother managed to laugh and pulled us into a hug and danced with us for a bit before tucking us back into bed."

He sighed, "Still landed us in the doghouse though. Next morning, mother came in our bedrooms at the crack of dawn and made us walk the dogs as punishment for disobedience. We felt and acted like zombies all morning, but I saw that victorious smile on my sister's face. She knew she'd won that round and our parents were torn between being upset of the disobedience and proud of her pluck—well, mother was, at least."

Kalinda smirked, "She loves to win."

"Who doesn't?" he retorted, "After sex, it's one of the best highs in the world. If there was anything I enjoyed about law, it's got to be the winning part."

"And the losing?"

"Hated every minute of it," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "At the end of the day, there was always someone I wanted to kill. And you know, I almost ended up working for the DA in my first year and Danni had already been swiped by another firm, Leland & Hargrove. But…"

Their eyes met and she gave him the subtlest of signs to continue.

"I realized we'd most likely find ourselves pitted against each other," he said. "And as fun as that might have been, it wasn't worth it. Without a doubt, there would have been only two ways it could end. We were either going to kill each other," he paused, "or we'll end up hating each other. Either way, it wasn't worth it." He grinned, "It's like the mob, you know? You don't go against the family."

"So you ended up working where?" she gave him points for loyalty.

"With dad's old firm," he shrugged. "I wasn't as driven as Danni with the law thing, obviously and I honestly just went in because, as they said, it was in our blood. I did it for two years then hightailed it out of town after my divorce."

"What number would that be?"

"One," he said then held up a hand, "And for the record, she left me and—"

A knock came and as Daniel stood up to answer it, Kalinda stood up and held up her hand and motioned for him to stop. He followed, crouching a little uncomfortably as he froze. She walked towards the door soundlessly, pulling out her gun and sliding it behind her body as she went to answer the door.

Her mind conjured up the image of Spellman as a reminder of how he might look. She'd memorized his features enough and she was sure if he had on a disguise, she'd have a better chance of recognizing him.

"Kalinda? It's Annie."

She sighed, letting out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding as she pulled the door open to reveal Annie with two uniformed police officers standing behind her. Kalinda could recognize them but couldn't remember their names.

"I think I'm in love!" Daniel proclaimed from his seat, grinning as Kalinda turned back into the room, giving him a look to silence him as she slipped her weapon back into her jacket. He grinned, pretending to lock his mouth closed and threw the imaginary key away. She rolled her eyes. The man was a shameless flirt.

"Kalinda, Mr. Lockhart," Annie said as she entered the room, "These are Officers Jay McCall and Tim Courtly," she motioned to the two dark haired officers. "The CPD sent them to…er, guard Miss Lockhart while they try to locate someone they think may be responsible for what happened last night."

"Good morning," they both chorused. "We'll be right outside and we'll be checking people every now and then. You folks have nothing to worry about."

"Of course not," Daniel said, standing up and meeting the two men in a handshake, "Daniel Lockhart. I'm Miss Lockhart's brother. Now tell me, if I make your jobs easier and have that bastard hunted down and shot, would I still have to go to jail?"

The two officers stared at him, gauging whether he was serious or not. He was smiling, even as he broke the handshakes but his eyes had gone steely and cold. Annie managed to let out a small nervous laugh, eyes widening a little.

"He's kidding," Kalinda said, stepping between the men, "We're fine in here, officers."

"We'll be outside," one of them said, glancing at his partner before heading out the room.

Kalinda turned to Daniel, "Not funny."

"Wasn't trying to be, Miss Sharma."

-o0o-

"So, while your men are out there trying to find that-that bastard," Will spat, pacing the small room like a caged animal. He was still trying to gather his composure after his outburst with little success. "How can you be so sure you can keep Diane guarded in the hospital?"

"We sent a couple of uniforms there, Mr. Gardner," Detective De Luca said, watching him as he and Alicia remained seated. After the volatile lawyer's outburst, he decided to let him walk it off around the room. Frankly, he was beginning to get dizzy, but since he was in no condition to leave yet, there wasn't much choice.

"Are they there _now_?" he snarled, "Because I'm pretty sure my investigator beat them there."

"Kalinda's always been efficient," De Luca commented, glancing at Alicia and was rewarded a slight nod from her. "Miss Lockhart is in good hands if she's there."

"Yes, I know, thank you," Will said, acid dripping from his words as he tucked his hands in his pockets roughly. "Where are they looking?"

"Spellman's parole officer had some places in mind, but we're scouting out areas," De Luca replied, wondering how this interrogation turned into _his _inquisition.

For the first time in his lengthy career, he was answering questions in this room and he honestly felt funny. He knew he should be angry, but couldn't find it in himself to be angry, not at the moment when the enemy really wasn't anyone in the room. He understood Will's anger because, though he was smart enough not to show it to the precinct, he was too.

He'd been in the job long enough to know how to play politics and _this _was one of those moments he could use that little talent not to get himself into trouble.

Someone had let out a drug dealer turned double-murderer without assigning someone who could rein him in. God knew what havoc he could wreak, aside from hurting his former lawyer. Drugs were too easy to score these days, especially with street credentials like Spellman. For the drug ring, ten years off the game wasn't too long. All he had to do was make a pick up, sell to a bunch of kids with deadbeat parents and he's back in business.

De Luca was willing to be less pessimistic now, but it didn't mean he was big on giving second chances to inmates with a colorful history like Spellman. He'd seen the consequences of being duped by enough bad-guys-turned-good to make him weary of all of them.

Remembering the things on Spellman's file and the possibility he'd gone after Diane Lockhart alone was enough to make De Luca want to wring someone's neck, preferably those who were responsible for letting the convict out. Parole board or not, it was hell of a mistake letting someone like that out. Good behavior in ten years was easy, if the prisoner was determined enough and from the looks of things, Spellman was _really _determined to get out.

"I'm not getting anything done around here," Will growled, pulling the door open and letting it bounce loudly against the wall. "I'm done. If you ever catch the bastard, let me know, but trust I won't be holding my breath."

De Luca let out a deep breath then turned to Alicia, "You gon' be okay riding with that one?"

She smiled and nodded, "He's fine. He's usually not so…volatile."

"Yeah, I know," he muttered. "Pissed me off before, but he's grown…a little. He was a kid when we first met."

"He remembers," she nodded as she stood up. "Please, if it's possible, if you find…"

"I'll keep you posted," he nodded. "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Florrick."

Alicia smiled and nodded, following Will out. De Luca watched as she left. At least, the end of the questioning didn't end up too badly. At least there was a bright side to this one.

The fact that Will Gardner had not threatened to sue the entire city and turn the precinct into a parking lot was telling enough. Then again, De Luca mused, he might've just been too preoccupied to remind them of what repercussions might come to them for this offense.

Lawyers, he thought, can't kill them, can't live with them. Women and cats were easier, of that he was willing to bet his money on. He hadn't lied to Kalinda when he said Diane Lockhart was one of the few lawyers left in the greater Chicago area that he hadn't wanted to cap yet. Maybe it was the fact that she was more diplomatic when it came to communicating with the police department, unlike Will Gardner and their former partner, Jonas Stern.

Combining the two, they were characteristically more inclined to be hostile compared to their sole female senior partner who was more careful in making enemies with the boys in blue. De Luca liked to think that the woman truly had respect for them and for what they do, but he also wouldn't put it past the fact that her father was a great supporter of the Chicago Police Department also held some weight in her behavior.

Still, De Luca had never truly had a real encounter with the woman and, to be more positive, he'd more than readily accept that, unlike most schmucks that were more commonly known as lawyers, Diane Lockhart was the few good ones left in the city.

By the time De Luca made his way into the main area of the precinct, he still managed to catch a glimpse of Will Gardner and Alicia Florrick through the windows in front of the precinct. She was still standing by him, he still looked tense, but calmer then as they together. They were both talking to a man all too familiar to the old detective.

The man was Kurt McVeigh, who was looking none too happy at the moment, standing with one hand on his hip, posture rigid while the other rubbed his temple. De Luca watched, interested. He'd heard something happening between him and Diane Lockhart, but after questioning Will, he was sure things had obviously not progressed to anything and the whispers had ended as abruptly as it started.

He wasn't the type to listen to rumors. Politics was something he only touched when he had to and talking about what a lawyer was doing with a ballistics expert was not at all in the same avenue. As much fun as the general public found scandals to be, he really didn't care as long as nobody got hurt physically or killed. There were so many other things to pay attention to like real crimes and police work.

De Luca knew, with the importance of the case, that he could bring Kurt in for questioning but he fought against it. He'd already brought in one man he was more than sure was innocent, he wasn't going to do it to someone he already knew for years. Kurt may be a lot of things, a pain in the ass being one of them, but he wasn't capable of what had been done to Diane Lockhart.

He'd known the man long enough so he shook his head and went to his desk, knowing he would be getting a call later. Kurt was nothing if not thorough and De Luca knew if he stuck around town, it meant that this time, he was going to have a cowboy dogging his case.

De Luca sighed, wondering how he was going to get through the case without capping Kurt McVeigh. The bastard, though his intentions were always good, was really a pain in the ass.

Especially when he gave a damn.

-o0o-

Stomping down the steps of the Chicago Police Department, Will found himself fuming as the echoes of Alicia's heels pierced through the mid-morning bustle. A few police officers were outside the precinct, some civilians and a few well-dressed lawyer types.

"Will…"

"I don't want to hear it," he said over his shoulder as he made his way to her parked car. He didn't want a lecture, not from her or from anyone. He was tired, he was pissed and the whole day was just going to hell. Will was ready to tear someone's head off and he really didn't want it to be Alicia at the moment.

"Will, calm down," she said, catching up with him when he stopped walking, hanging his head as he let his shoulders slump. "Will?"

"We fought," he said quietly, let out a deep breath.

"Yeah," she nodded, "I figured that…when Detective De Luca started questioning you."

"We yelled," he added. "Well…I yelled….first. I yelled _first_."

Alicia could have guessed that, given how the two partners have been acting the past few months, but she placed a hand on his shoulder anyway to try and comfort him, "You and Diane have been under a lot of pressure lately, with the financial state of the firm and—"

"No," he shook his head, "I've been…angry and I've been taking it out on her."

"No, Will," she said, turning his body towards her, "You cannot think like that. Whatever's been happening between you and Diane has nothing to do with—"

"She was heading out when I came in and started that fight," he said, voice and his face heavy with guilt he'd been hiding underneath all that anger. "If she'd gotten home earlier maybe—"

"Maybe she would have met her attacker a lot earlier, maybe something else would have happened, maybe she could have gotten in another accident," Alicia listed, "Anything could have happened, Will, _anything _could have taken place with or without your interference. If anything, you helped her by coming to her home. You saved her, Will. Who knows what might have happened if you hadn't come?"

"But—"

"You fought, you were angry, you both probably said some words," Alicia was all too aware how people who knew each other well fought. "And it's understandable to feel guilty about being angry, but you couldn't have known what was going to happen next. It wasn't your fault."

His eyes met hers, "I need her to wake up."

"She will," Alicia said, her voice so full of conviction, it left no space for doubt or anything else. "Diane's going to be fine, Will, thanks to you. I'm sure she'll feel the same way."

"It's selfish," he admitted. "I want her to wake up so I can feel better, so I won't have to feel this guilt. But I want her to wake up."

"It's not selfish," she said, understanding him completely. "It's human."

"I…"

"Will Gardner?"

Alicia and Will turned towards the voice and immediately spotted Kurt McVeigh coming towards them. The man looked composed, but certain signs pointed that he wasn't as collected as he wanted to seem with his messy hair, pale features and his wrinkled suede jacket. For someone who'd seen him composed and ready for court, it was safe to say he looked nearly like a mess.

"Kurt," Will managed to sound normal. "I…what are you doing here?"

"I heard about…" he motioned with his hand, "I was going to ask around…what happened."

Will glanced at Alicia who nodded at him encouragingly, "We just finished talking to the police."

"Yeah," Kurt nodded. "I…I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank—" Will stopped, his brow furrowing. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry about what happened…" he took a deep breath, "to Diane."

Will nodded, "Yeah, but…what did you mean exactly by…" he stopped, shaking his head as he rubbed his face with one hand, "Listen, Kurt, I think you've been misinformed…you heard about Diane? What happened last night?"

"Yeah, saw it in the news," the man's features took a gloomy air and, if possible, made him look even more despondent. It made Will think twice about his relationship with Diane again. Was it possible she'd been seeing him in secret?

"What did you hear?" Will needed to know just how badly the news had spread its damage.

"That last night she was…" Kurt shifted uncomfortably, "Killed."

Alicia placed a hand over her Will's arm then stepped forward, "Mr. McVeigh, I can assure you that while someone hurt Diane, she's-she's alive. She survived the attack and she's in the hospital right now, but we've been assured that she will make a full recovery…"

Both lawyers watched as the information began to sink into the ballistics expert's mind, slowly transforming his poignant features into one of disbelief, the shock clearly showing itself on his face. There was also a distinct look in his eyes that he was obviously trying to hide: happiness.

"But the news…" he said slowly and it was his turn to rub his brow, his other hand settling on his hip. "They said she was dead."

"They were mistaken," Will said, glad that for once he was delivering news falling more on the positive side. "We've managed to contact them and correct their…mistake. She's alive, Kurt, I'm sorry that you were led to think otherwise."

Kurt nodded, "I…that's good. That's…really good."

Alicia managed a small smile, "Yes, it is."

"Listen, I know you…worked closely together," Will began, struggling to find the right words to classify what happened between Diane and the ballistics expert, hoping he wouldn't end up offending anyone. "I can tell you where she is, but I'd have to ask you to not tell anyone. We're trying to keep people out, especially the press since the police are still looking into what really happened, but—"

"No, no," Kurt said, shaking his head. "I'm fine knowing she's going to be okay. That's great. I really just came in to the city to see if I could offer my…assistance. Thought maybe I could help with the investigation, you know."

Alicia's comforting smile fell. She'd heard something had gone down during his deposition with Cary and Diane during one of their cases, but she hadn't heard more. If anything, she'd assumed that despite what happened in the Bianca Price murder, they still managed to pursue something after Diane all too quickly volunteered to get a ballistics expert for their case herself. Alicia wasn't one to listen to gossip so if there had been other developments, she was unaware.

But the man standing in front of them had looked devastated when they'd first seen him. He honestly could not deny he had no further interest in Diane when his features easily gave him away. She hoped there was a way to mend whatever rift there was between him and Diane. She'd never seen the older woman laugh the way she did the first time she'd seen him walk out of her office that first day.

"Give her my best," Kurt said and began to walk towards the entrance of the precinct.

Will watched him go before turning to Alicia, "Give me a minute."

She nodded, knowing she'd have done the same if he didn't.

"Kurt," he called, following the man.

"Yeah?" Kurt stopped, turning to him, squinting against the sun.

"Diane…" he trailed off, wondering exactly how he was going to say this without causing more harm to something Will had no idea about. "Whatever happened between the two of you…I know that despite the short time you two spent together...she's a good person."

"I know," Kurt nodded.

"And I know you might not always see eye to eye, but…" Will shrugged, "I'm sure she'd be willing to put that all aside." He thought about adding 'for you' specifically but he thought that would be too much. Besides, he had no idea how Diane felt about this man. He could only hope he was doing something right.

"What exactly are you saying?" Kurt asked.

"I mean there'll be days she'll be hard to handle, when things can get too much," the corners of his mouth turned up, "She'll fight you in anything and everything as long as she wants to and as long as she can, but I'm telling you…she's worth it."

"You think so?"

Will nodded, slowly, "I know so. Diane is a wonderful person…it just takes a lot of effort to get past her walls. You'll have to scale every one of them."

"Like Alcatraz."

Will smirked, "Harder, but, like I said…she's worth it."

Kurt nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets, "…I know."

"Mercy Grace Hospital," Will said with a slight smile. "I'll give your name to the nurse and they'll let you in. If she's awake already, whatever happened between the two of you, if you get the third degree, just get through it. Once you're in, it gets easier. I promise."

Kurt stared at him a moment before nodding, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Will said sincerely before turning away and walking back towards Alicia who was smiling at him. "What?"

"That was sweet," she shrugged. "You did a good thing."

"My good deed for the year then," Will quipped. "That leaves me one less thing to worry about."

She chuckled as they continued to walk, although this time with lighter moods.

"Although I'm not sure how Diane will react when she finds out…" doubt was clear in his voice.

"She'll appreciate it," Alicia said, remembering again the way Diane smiled after claiming she'd been visited by the man she'd dubbed the 'Marlboro Man'. "She liked him."

"Well, she obviously froze him out for a reason," he replied. "Diane just doesn't freezes people out for nothing…" he knew that from extensive experience.

"They might've been angry about something, maybe they fought," she said as they headed towards her car. "They just need to talk. You'll help them do that."

"Maybe," he said. "Let's just hope she doesn't tear me a new one for bringing Kurt in. The guy looked like a wreck. What was I supposed to do?"

She shrugged, "They must've been close, at some point."

Will gave her a look.

"No pun intended," she added, pushing him on the shoulder as he let out a laugh. "I did not mean it like that."

"Of course you—" Will stopped as his phone began to ring, "It's Annie."

"Isn't she at the hospital?" Alicia asked, looking worried once more.

He nodded, "Annie?" He listened, "Okay. That's…good. Call me if anything happens, okay? Thanks Annie. I'll call you back."

Alicia raised a questioning eyebrow, "What?"

"Diane's brother arrived this morning," Will answered.

"Brother?"

"Yes," Will nodded, "She has a brother, Daniel Archer Lockhart III."

"I didn't even know she had a brother," she said.

Will nodded indifferently, "Well, I only met him once and almost nobody's met him so that's understandable. Diane's very big on privacy."

Alicia would agree, knowing she knew next to nothing about the woman and remembering her hopes of changing that if given the chance, "Older or younger?"

"Dan?" Will asked. "Hm…not sure, but I think older. He called her 'baby sister' and got a punch for it. Apparently, Diane was a bossy sister and has a good right hook."

Alicia smothered a laugh, "Sounds…interesting."

"I guess," Will responded as he slipped into the passenger seat while Alicia headed to the driver's. "I stopped fishing a long time ago. Diane doesn't like talking about her family."

"But her father was a Congressman?" she asked, recalling the news report from that morning that led to all that's happened in the last few hours.

"Yes," Will nodded, "Along with her grandfather and before that, great grandfather, but that's all I know. Hell, I'm not even that sure."

"Wow," Alicia said and would have whistled if she could.

"Yeah," Will nodded as she began to pull out, "You wanna know something else?"

"What?" she asked, more than interested. If Diane's family history was that deep, maybe Peter knew this about her as well. He had warned her about Diane, but even at that time, conversation was still incredibly strained between them, she'd barely listened.

"Gun control," he said. "Do you ever wonder why she's so against guns?"

"She's a straight liberal," she shrugged, "Isn't that explanation enough?"

Will smirked, "For most, it should be, but not Diane Lockhart," he paused. "Her father wrote the first legislation against gun control in the Illinois constitution."

"Really?" Alicia asked, surprised. It wasn't that she doubted the Lockharts, but somehow, she'd have expected that to be something that would have been tagged next to Diane's name, but Alicia had been completely clueless up to then.

"Yeah," Will replied. "Diane doesn't talk about it, at least, not to me. I only found out from Stern, come to think of it."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

Alicia shrugged, driving through the mid-morning traffic easily, "Why doesn't she like talking about her family? They sound like they have a great history."

He shrugged, "I don't know…but why does anybody ever do anything anyway?" He leaned back, closing his eyes as he got comfortable. He was starting to find he liked riding in Alicia's car. It smelled like her perfume, something sweet and unfamiliar.

"Are you still mad she didn't tell you?"

"Yes," he said, nodding. "But the more I think about it, the more I realize I should have expected it. It's Diane, after all…"

Will suppressed a yawn then continued, "I stopped trying to figure out Diane a long time ago."

-o0o-

Diane Lockhart was dreaming.

And yet, even while she felt like she was floating, something persistently interrupted her peace. There were voices she thought she could recognize but couldn't and for some reason, when she tried to concentrate on them, she couldn't. She was floating, sort of, and since there wasn't much she could do, she decided, for once, not to fight it.

Diane hasn't felt this kind of peace and calm for a very _long _time.

It was kind of nice.

She wondered if this is how being high felt. She was a child of the sixties, but she'd been clever enough to stay away from the drugs. Diane wasn't the type to want to lose control like that. Back then, the worst she'd done was drink herself into oblivion then regret it the next morning when the punishment in the form of a hangover came.

"_You know, its _stupid _comments like that that'll get you in trouble someday."_

Cool calm and controlled, yet thick with dry reprimand. Diane _knew _that voice but still could not place it. Her fog induced brain would not let her. She sighed inwardly.

"_Gee, thanks, _mother_. I'll be a good boy and remember that."_

Sarcastic, immature and mocking, she definitely knew that voice, but again, could not place it. She was starting to get annoyed. She was losing her peace, calm world with those persistently arguing voices.

Diane wished she could tell them to shut up.

"_I still quite find it surprising you're related."_

Then again, who was she kidding? She needed and wanted to find out whose voices they were and why they sounded like they weren't playing nice. Diane was willing to take that as a hint, though not a good one.

"_Well, excuse me for not reading the handbook of siblings then, Miss—"_

"_Excuse me, what is going on here?"_

Damn it, Diane thought. The sarcastic one was so ready to say a name, or at the very least a mocking label that could have at least clued her in. Whose voice was that new one anyway? She was pretty sure she'd never heard it before, but it was female and full of authority. She sounded incredulous, or plainly pissed.

"_We were just talking."_

"_The patient needs rest."_

"_She's unconscious. She _is _resting."_

Diane stopped listening.

Patient.

They were not talking about her right? She was not unconscious. At least, she doesn't think so.

"_Please, I'd like you all to be quiet or I'll have to ask you to leave."_

Leave? Diane thought, alarmed. No. She was high or floating, or _something _and they couldn't leave without telling her what was going on. She needed to do something. What was she anyway? Awake? And why was it so damn dark?

"_What's going on here?"_

Oh, another voice. This one she knew. Soft, calm and curious…where were they all coming from, popping out of nowhere like that? What the hell was going on? Diane was annoyed.

"_Oh, my god…did you see that?"_

"_See what, dear?"_

"_I…"_

Someone was touching Diane.

"_Miss Lockhart, it's me. Annie…can you hear me?"_

Ah, Annie. Now that made sense, but it also alarmed Diane. She was willing to evaluate things to figure out exactly what was going on, but somehow, she knew if she didn't get the fog out of her brain, she'd panic. Logic told her she'd have better luck getting concrete answers while lucid and actually seeing real things.

"Oh my god! She's waking up!" she heard someone exclaim as suddenly, the darkness was pierced with light. This time, it was _too _white around her. "Miss Lockhart?"

"Mm…" Diane tried to respond, but decided blinking was more important, if only to adjust her eyes to the sudden burst of light. God, she'd practically burned her retinas.

Diane felt weird. She wondered if she passed out in her office again. Did she? She'd been working late on Sheffrin-Marks lately, if only for the billable hours and trying to come up with ways to keep the firm afloat. Oh, Will was going to love this. She was going to have to swear Annie to secrecy or subtly threaten her with something painful.

"Miss Lockhart," someone spoke, the one she didn't recognize. "I'm Nurse Linda, can you hear me? You've just gotten out of surgery."

Surgery? Diane began to wonder and feel panicked when suddenly, light burst into her eyes again. Jesus Christ! She's not sure if she outward said that or not, but she jumped and batted the light away drunkenly with what she assumed was her hand. Were they trying to blind her? Who was that, Nurse Linda _Ratched_?

"Miss Lockhart, how do you feel?"

Diane wanted to say 'blind' but she was too busy blinking _again_. She waved her hand blindly again and tried to speak once more and still failed. Still, she managed a slight moan. That had to be progress.

"Miss Lockhart?" it was definitely pretty little Annie, her assistant. Diane wondered what she was doing there when she was supposed to be at the office. Who was looking after her office while she was in the hospital? She closed her eyes again.

Hell, _why _was she in the hospital?

"Danni."

Diane stopped, her brows furrowing and decided this was a good time to open her eyes, unaware they'd even been closed in the first place. She _knew _that voice, but it'd been a while since she heard it _that _near. She took a deep breath, prayed for coherence and focused her vision more.

The first thing she saw was the face of a strange woman—the nurse, she guessed—then a very anxious looking Annie and finally, turning her head to the other side, _him_.

"D-Dan…?" she managed to croak out. Her throat felt like the Sahara.

"Yeah, hey," he smiled broadly.

Diane blinked again, her eyes taking in his features, almost disbelievingly. What was he doing _here_? Why was she in the hospital? Why did she have so many _unanswered _questions?

She tried to speak, "Wh…wh-what…?"

Daniel smiled happily, "Hey, sissy. I'm home."

Diane leaned forward, wanting to touch his face if only to prove he was really there. She didn't want to hope he was when there were chances he really wasn't. Delusions and dreams were a couple of bitches as far as she was concerned.

Throat dry as a desert, she tried to speak, then failed again. Frustration began to mix with shock as she blinked a few more times, just in case he disappeared again.

"Danni…?"

Something caught in her throat at the sound of the name and then, though she tried hard to fight it, everything went black again.

"Miss Lockhart!" Annie gasped just as her boss' eyes rolled and her head lolled to the side. "Oh, god…what happened?"

The nurse pulled on her stethoscope to check on Diane. She began to check her breathing and pulse methodically as if it was something she did everyday. "Miss Lockhart has passed out," she supplied, pushing a button on the side of the bed, "Get me Dr. Nolan."

"She passed out?" Daniel said, frowning. "Oh, come _on_. I don't look _that _bad."

"She was just…surprised to see you," Annie said, biting her bottom lip worriedly, her hands still holding Diane's, mindful of the taped securing the needle in the back of her hand for the IV.

"Please, enough noise," Nurse Linda said, smoothing Diane's hair gently. "I'm willing to guess your talking is what woke Miss Lockhart up when she wasn't ready to wake yet."

"Well, Bond girl over there started it," Daniel said, pointing at Kalinda like a tattling child only to receive an eye roll. "Keep doing that and it'll really stick."

"Immature," she said simply. "Bet that's what gets the ladies."

He grinned lasciviously, "You would know, wouldn't you?"

"Mr. Lockhart, Miss Sharma, I'm going to have to send you out."

Kalinda shook her head, "I'll wait by the door."

Daniel grinned at the nurse, "She likes me."

"Mr. Lockhart…"

He sighed, "Look, isn't it a good thing if she wakes up? I mean, isn't that the point?"

"Yes, it is," the nurse nodded. "_But _we'd prefer it more on the patient's terms so they're more likely going to be well rested when they do so. That's the reason why we don't go around shaking patients awake, Mr. Lockhart."

He sighed dramatically with a slight scowl, "Big chance I won't remember your name too."

The nurse shook her head just as the doctor entered, "Dr. Nolan. Good morning."

"Good morning, Nurse Linda," the doctor replied with a smile, "How's my patient?"

"She woke a moment ago and subsequently passed out."

"Oh?" the doctor said with a raised eyebrow, glancing around the room. "Well, isn't my patient popular today."

"She is," Daniel said, pulling out his phone and showing the doctor the screen.

**CHICAGO LAWYER FOUND DEAD **the headline screamed.

"Oh, yes, of course," the doctor nodded and proceeded to check Diane's vitals. "You must be Miss Lockhart's brother, Daniel?"

"Yes, I am, we spoke on the phone earlier," he nodded. "And you must be Dr. Billy Nolan."

"Of course, and yes, I am," the doctor smiled.

"Dr. Kristoff Jensen sends his regards," Daniel said with a knowing smile.

"Ah, you know Dr. Jensen?" the doctor said with an appreciative smile. "Excellent neurosurgeon…he's in New York now, if I'm not mistaken."

"Yes, with New York-Presbyterian," Daniel nodded. "School chum and batch mate of yours from Johns Hopkins?"

Dr. Nolan nodded, "Yes. We helped each other get through those torturous nights in study hall, pouring over the human anatomy."

"He's assured me my sister is in good hands," Daniel responded, not at all condescending.

"Well, I'll have to thank him later for his faith in my work," Dr. Nolan replied in all honesty, clearly willing not to take offense about being checked out. "But I can assure you of the same as well, Mr. Lockhart. We'll take very good care of your sister."

"Thank you," Daniel replied, his genuine gratitude apparent.

The doctor nodded then turned to the other people in the room, "Now, I've met Miss Annie, but you," he turned to Kalinda, who was still standing by the door. "I'm afraid I haven't Miss…"

"Kalinda," she said simply.

"She's the muscle," Daniel said simply.

Kalinda resisted the urge to roll her eyes again. What had Diane told her manchild of a brother? There had to be a reason why he was especially picking on her. She hoped she could get through his stay without having to bury him in a landfill somewhere. Kalinda was sure that was grounds for termination in Diane's book.

"Well, alright then," the doctor nodded. "Miss Lockhart is doing fine and basing on what just occurred, I can safely say that she just really needs her rest. I've observed that she leads a rather…er, high-stress job."

"A great understatement," Daniel said with a slight shake of his head. "My sister hates the words: rest, vacation and break."

The doctor nodded, "Yes, well, I imagine she lacks some needed sleep so, while I greatly disapprove of patients being disturbed, I'll allow you all to stay, given the current situation," he gave the door a pointed look, indicating the guards outside. "But only if I am promised that you will refrain from disturbing Miss Lockhart again."

"We won't, doctor," Daniel answered obediently, "Scout's honor."

Dr. Nolan chuckled, "Of course. But I'll say it was a good sign she woke up. I'm positive she will wake again sometime soon only next time, she'll hopefully be more rested and we'll have more chances of catching her more coherent and responsive."

Daniel nodded, "Good…that's _really _good."

"Now, if you'll excuse me," the doctor headed out. "I've been on duty for twenty-two hours. I'll be taking my leave, but I'll be reachable through my cell and beeper. Miss Lockhart is doing well, everyone. That's the best news I can give."

"Thank you, doctor," Daniel said, for once, the look on his face sincere as he went to his sister's bedside, linking the fingers that lay free out of the hardened cast's reach through his.

Both Kalinda and Annie watched in silence as he tenderly placed a kiss on his twin's unmarked temple and whispered, "Time to wake up, Danni…I need my sister back."

-o0o0o0o0o-

So this took me a while to put up when I usually try to put one up every six days, but I have a good reason, one I won't discuss at length in fear of wasting space, but I promise it's an acceptable one. People on **ECB **know why this took me a bit to finish and I've sort of explained it to them. I'll only say this: car accident.

Nothing major and I am completely okay, except I am now mourning the loss of my car. That's all, okay? I've got all body parts accounted for so…there.

Anyhoo, so **Daniel** is a bit all over the place…sorry about that. And yes, I am aware that **Diane** wasn't _that _awake, but I promise, it's one step closer. Next chapter, she'll _probably _be speaking/acting clearer already.

The scenes with **Will **and **Alicia**…I hope that was convincing. But caution, those who like this pairing, I am honestly saying that I have no definite pairing for ANYONE at the moment. Okay?

And** Kalinda**, whom I adore, is slowly becoming the bane of my fanfic-writing existence. I'm never sure if I'm writing her properly so ya'll tell me. I seem to have different opinions about my writing compared to you guys so I'll keep quiet and let you guys judge for yourselves.

Oh, and the **medical stuff**…still an idiot about it so if you find anything wrong, tell me and I shall try and fix it. There's a reason why I'm not a doctor or nurse. Yikes. And also, I have never woken from a coma or known anyone who's had the experience so I'm not sure how believable that **Diane thing** was. All I know is, I used my screwed up imagination for that.

Hm…then there's** Kurt McVeigh**…how was that? This 'stoically silent' cowboy stuff is insane…how would one write about someone who is supposed to be the silent type? Like Kalinda, he's kind of hard too, but she still takes the freaking cake.

As for **Christie**…well, you know what went down with that.

I know I probably put _too much back stories_ for the Lockharts, but I really want to show how close the twins were before things turned different—which is an altogether different story so this is gonna be a long story, just to warn you guys.

I've made up my own history for the family and I'm hoping it'll fly, but for now, please bear with me. Next chapter, I'll really be digging into the** present** and the** original characters**. I'm thinking it's time to _really_ **wake up Diane**. We'll see, right? So, please, if you have ideas and/or comments, leave a review on your way out. I love 'em.

_**Note:**_

_**To Ellie:**_  
Oh, I'm so glad you thought the interrogation as believable. I was sweatin' bullets on that one, I'm telling you. Was giddy-stupid about it too. *giggles* I thought it would be Will-like to blow up like that in the end. He's often the one starting screaming matches with Diane so I thought it would fit. Hm, and I think since some of you seem to like Annie, I'll keep her around for a bit more. I like having someone on Diane's camp. And total lol when I read what you said about Kalinda and Daniel. I kind of want them to collaborate in the future too, so you can watch out for that one. We'll see what my crazy head comes up with.

I'm also very glad you noticed the Malcolm/Kurt parallel between Annie and Will. I'll be exploring that later since I'm putting the po-po's on the case more, headed of course by De Luca. We didn't see much of Malcolm but maybe I'll try checking him out later, see if he can really fit in a bigger role. What do you think about that? Besides, you never know…who's really capable of doing what was done to our beloved Diane?

Oh! As for Kurt…I hope you're not too disappointed he's not at the hospital yet. I'm trying to get the whole cowboy picture. I've never met one so I don't know how they act, but I hope he's still in character…hm. Him and Kalinda, such trouble makers for little ole' me, but I'm willing to keep going since I like both characters VERY much.

_**To thatsall**_:  
I tried replying to your account, but it seems you don't allow private messages so here I am, hoping you'll catch this message.

First off, thank you for reviewing my story and I'm sorry for the wait. You really made me happy when you wrote that I still managed to keep our favorite character in character while unconscious. I honestly did not think that was possible so thank you very much. And I am also glad you're not put out by the way I've turned both Lockharts into opposites…that's something, at least to me, because it's a big relief. I've bent so many rules and infos about the show, I was worried people might get annoyed and stop reading. You guys who take time to review really help in alleviating my worries and fears. So, thank you. I hope you'll stick around for the ride and that, in the end, it'll all make sense. Thank you! *smiles* I've got more coming so please, stick around. I'll be trying REALLY hard to make this good.

Last note to everyone who read and reviewed—_I'm so sorry for making you guys wait for so long. Will try not to let it happen again. Thanks!_


	6. Chapter 6 The Trick is to Keep Breathing

**Blackout**  
by: raileht  
**  
****Summary:** It was over. The fight in her was almost completely out and she was nearing total exhaustion. She was about to die.

**Disclaimer: **The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.  
**Rating: **T, to be safe  
**Spoilers/Timeline:** post-finale but I've omitted some facts and scenes to better fit the story and you'll figure out which ones I hadn't included along the way. But if you have questions, just ask.

**Warning: **Bad words and a lot of violence right from the start. Will be a somewhat dark story so people will be in pain—physical and emotional. Maybe not for the faint hearted.**  
Warning#2: Diane** was supposed to wake up in the previous chapter, but I thought I was running out of space (my limit is 10K per chapter) and I thought her waking up should deserve a larger space so…here you go. I hope you guys will approve.

_Also, they changed Justice, the dog, on the show. At first he was a white terrier that was a little bigger than the one they used on Bad. From what I've read, they had to use a local dog in Canada for the pilot. I'm going with the newer Justice—the one who almost got shot. I'm thinking he must have been a Yorkie but if anyone has any additional info, I'd love to know more and edit if possible._

**Chapter Title taken from:**  
Garbage, _The Trick is to Keep Breathing_

-o0oo0oo0o-

**Chapter Six: The Trick is to Keep Breathing**

"De Luca."

The detective shook his head, turning from the stack of folders that was piled on his desk and faced his new visitor with a smirk, "McVeigh."

"You busy?" the cowboy asked, looking more tensed than De Luca had ever seen him. The man looked completely wound up.

De Luca checked his watch, "Come on in." He gestured to the cubicle he'd been assigned to for the last thirty years. He'd been offered an office, but the sentimental side of him didn't want to leave his cubby.

"Thanks," Kurt replied, taking a seat in front of the desk.

"Coffee?" De Luca offered, "It's still the same crap from the last time you came by."

"No, thanks," Kurt muttered.

"This about that lady lawyer?" De Luca asked, sipping a cup of horrible coffee, the same kind he'd been downing for six years now.

"Yeah," he grunted. "Heard it's been passed on to you from Tobin."

"Mhm," he mumbled. "Kid's not too happy. This was his first big fish." He sighed, "Let's cut the small talk, Kurt. What can I do for you?"

"I want to know how the case is going," Kurt said honestly. There'd never been bullshit between the two men, they weren't going to start now.

"You know I can't do that," De Luca said with a knowing look. "Scuttlebutt is you and Miss Lockhart were an item at some point."

"We…" Kurt shook his head. "We had something."

"Had?" De Luca raised an eyebrow. "Kid, you know just for that I could bring you in and question you, right?"

"But you won't," he replied. "Miss Lockhart and I met professionally, we went out to dinner, went out a few more times, but that's it. I haven't seen her in…more than a month."

De Luca nodded, "Didn't work out?"

"Sort of," he shrugged. "Guess we were too different."

"She's a democrat," De Luca chuckled. "Her father was one of the most popular Congressmen from Chicago. _They _practically introduced gun control in Chicago."

"And she's buddies with Clinton."

"Secretary of State?"

Kurt nodded, "Mhm."

"Well, _that _never helps," De Luca grinned, "Of all the women in the world, McVeigh. You had to pick this one?"

"She was…interesting," Kurt shrugged.

"With the best pair of gams I've seen in a while…" De Luca whistled.

"_Hey_."

"I just saw pictures," De Luca chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender, amused at the warning tone of his friend's voice. He'd hit a nerve all right. "Oh, I get it. You still interested. What happened, she shot you down? Dumped you like cold fish?"

Kurt shook his head, "She's open minded about accepting…well, not accepting, but she could look past the politics."

"Then what? You said 'different'," De Luca snarked. "If she can look past your gun-toting, farm handling, semi-misanthropic Republican-backing ass, why let her go?"

"Can't you just talk to me about the case?"

"No."

"I heard from the news she died during the attack," he blurted out, shifting in his seat.

"That's why you came?" De Luca shook his head. "All the more reason I shouldn't let you in." He rubbed his face, "The news got it wrong. She's fine and we've sent a couple of uniforms to the hospital, make sure no one comes back."

"Think it wasn't random?" Kurt asked. "Someone went out to hurt _her_?"

"Chicago's a jungle," De Luca commented, "And she's a lawyer. Not the best job, you know that. Pays usually high, depending on where you work, but it's a fast way to get killed too. It coulda been anyone. We're just covering our bases."

"Got any suspects?"

"_McVeigh_."

He shrugged, "Friend to a friend."

"No, cop to a man who went out with the victim and who, by the way, still obviously wants to go out with the victim and," he wagged a finger. "Has access to enough guns to kill the entire city."

"If I went after the guy, you know I wouldn't kill him," Kurt replied, he was nothing if not honest. "Too easy."

"Yeah?" De Luca drawled out. "But you'd tie him up by his feet, beat him senseless and give him to us and say it was an accident. He just _accidentally _ran into your fists again and again, that'll be your story, right?"

"Well, not anymore," Kurt said, snapping a finger. "You ruined that one already."

"If I wanted you to go batshit crazy, I woulda called you myself," De Luca said. "I heard about you and the woman a while back. Something about getting busted in court?"

"Bianca Price Murder," he said simply. "ASA trying to get back at her partner, Gardner…don't you know that guy?"

"Gardner?" De Luca smirked, "Yeah. Kid's grown, still a little hotheaded though."

"A little?" he'd met up with Diane that night they'd been found out in court, in a different hotel. She'd been more than a little upset about the fight with Will, but Kurt didn't let the chance pass to chide her for driving while upset. In his book, that never ended well and that was one habit he greatly disapproved of.

"He was worst when he was younger," the detective shrugged.

"You questioned him?"

"Yes, we did," De Luca nodded. "He found the bod—her. He was the first on the scene."

"He wouldn't do this," Kurt shook his head though a part of him wondered what Will Gardner was doing at Diane's house. "Doesn't have it in him."

"I know," he nodded. "But someone wanted him in_ here_."

Kurt nodded, it wouldn't surprise him if someone was pissed with Will. Even he had heard what he'd done in Federal Court, opposing a judge and her lack of ruling. That took balls and a certain level of questionable sanity, "What else you got?"

"You're getting me in trouble."

"Wouldn't," Kurt shook his head. "You're too important. That's why it's you they got on this case. Diane may have been a lawyer, but she's pretty famous around here. It's a high profile case and you got one of the best track record in town."

De Luca rolled his eyes and said sarcastically, "Aw, shucks. You're making me blush."

"I can help," he insisted.

"She's your ex."

"Not officially," he grunted, which was the truth. He and Diane never got to define their relationship and never had a proper parting. Who knew what they were? _Are? _"Why bring in Gardner, on what grounds?"

"They had a little tiff—or as his lawyer insisted, _a discussion_— the night before, something about a client," De Luca sighed, "They haven't been getting along, according to a tip we got."

"Those two fight all the time, usually business," Kurt grunted. "They're having problems. After that guy, Stern, left, he took his clients with him, threatened to take them down."

"I heard about that," De Luca nodded. "Is it possible that loose canon Stern—?"

"Who knows with that bastard?" Kurt knew of the man's history with the police.

De Luca nodded, "Look, I won't hire you—there was _no _gun in this case, but…ever heard of the name Jeffrey Spellman?"

"No," Kurt replied, thankful even his old friend was willing to bend rules a little.

"Your girlfriend ever mentioned him?" he couldn't resist needling him a little, if only to lighten his somber mood. The man was had it _bad_.

"She wasn't my girlfriend," he said then silently wondered if he'd said that too quickly. "And no, she never mentioned him. Who's he? Angry ex?"

"No, but he's an ex-something," De Luca said, grabbing a folder and placing it in front of Kurt, large hand on top of it to keep it closed. "I show you, it means I trust you not to go half-cocked around town to take him down because we have _nothing _on him or anyone right now. We don't have evidence if he ever came near her or even talked to her, understand?"

"Yeah," he said, eyes never leaving the folder.

De Luca pulled it back, "Look at me and tell me you understand or I'll haul your ass outta here."

Kurt followed, their eyes meeting in a gentlemen's agreement, "I understand."

"I know she might've been something to you," De Luca continued. "But you're too good a friend for me to allow to go insane, all right? The law isn't perfect, but it's all we got and we stick to it, no matter how bad we wanna kill some sons of bitches, all right?"

Kurt nodded, "You're making it sound like I'm going to want to kill the guy."

"I got his records," De Luca nodded, "But someone was also kind enough to forward me some of his court transcripts. He got sentenced and he wasn't happy about it."

"I bet," he muttered.

"Here," De Luca said in a low voice. "Make it quick. I'll shoot you myself if this gets out of hand, do you hear me, McVeigh?"

"Duly noted."

De Luca's hand left the folder, freeing it for Kurt to take. He watched, as his friend took in all the information he'd managed to gather. Slowly, he watched his face become animated by barely concealed anger, fingers twitching as he took everything in, word for word.

He'd known Kurt McVeigh a long time and knew he was professional and highly principled, but in all the years they'd known each other, he'd never seen Kurt deal with something personal. This was alien to them both. He honestly had no idea how Kurt was going to react.

And De Luca hoped he hadn't just made a big mistake.

-o0o-

"Listen, I am _not _telling you to stop your broadcasts because we all know that would be breaking your constitutional rights," Will was saying into the phone as he paced inside his office.

"But I_ am_ demanding that you people get your facts straight and while you're at it, I hope you don't try to further endanger my colleague's safety by publicly declaring where she is being treated while the investigation is still going on."

Alicia watched, perched on the seat in front of his desk, deciding it was better to let him walk off his steam while he talked to another local channel. Whoever was on the other end of the line was just one of those probably not having the best mornings, she guessed.

Will had so far kept his anger and frustration away from the firm and the staff, and instead, took it out on the local news channels who were responsible for bad journalism and, in his opinion, endangering Diane's well being by announcing where she was. To him, it was like sending a flair signal to Spellman or whoever was responsible for what happened.

"You can speak to Detective De Luca about the case," Will replied, "Listen, I'll say this _again _I have no comment and, unless you'd prefer this option, your lawyers can meet me now at our firm. I can assure you that I can and _will_ make time for you, even draw up some legal agreement while I'm at it. What, no…?"

Will paused, listening, his mouth contorting in a dangerous snarl. "No, _no_, really. I'd be _glad _to do it…" his sarcasm laced words dripped with acid that was too hard to miss. "Oh, no? Well, if not then what? I'm listening because the words _'clear and present danger'_ are really getting ready to jump into this conversation right now."

She watched, fascinated as his face transformed once more, this time more dangerous than before as he smiled, like a predator finding the perfect prey, "No, this isn't blackmail, pal. It's me telling you that if you people don't get your facts straight, I am going to rain down on you so hard, you won't even have a single microphone left in your name."

Alicia admitted to herself silently that even now, she still liked seeing him perform. She had admired him back in Georgetown and with time, he'd more than improved. His techniques, though laced with obvious hostility, were swift and graceful. Will always knew _exactly _where to cut to make his opponent bleed. She had enjoyed watching him moot court.

"Of course, I understand," he nodded, his voice and tone a lot less hostile now though laced with condescension. He wanted to them to hear he_ knew_ he had won, "Yes, that's good. I'm _glad _we can come to an understanding."

He hung up without saying goodbye, sighing deeply then hung his head, letting out a deep breath as if he'd been running too hard. Slipping his phone into his pocket, he shook his head, his shoulders slumping.

"You okay?" Alicia asked, concerned.

"Fine," he replied dryly. "They agreed to run communications with Detective De Luca and the police department. They'll be the one to tell them what they can and cannot report and I'll have them monitored, but I'm not so sure now if it'll make any difference since they already reported where Diane is currently admitted."

"At least you've warned them," she said, though even to her ears she knew it sounded weak. "It'll help knowing they won't be putting Diane's safety in jeopardy with their reports. They'll be more careful now."

"Is it enough?" Will asked, lifting his head as he turned to her. She could see the dark circles under his eyes, more prominent than ever.

"They've sent some police officers to the hospital," Alicia said, tempted to stand and give him comfort. "Nothing will happen to Diane, Will. She's going to be fine."

This was the first time she was seeing him so worried about Diane, somehow she wondered exactly how close they were. To her, this was more than just guilt now. Will was truly worried about his partner and he'd done nothing but pull all the stops he could the past few hours. If not for the antagonism between them because of problems within the firm, Alicia would be betting now they were really good friends outside the office.

If the fighting and the snarling was an act, they had everyone fooled, but Alicia knew that wasn't truly plausible at the moment. They'd really been butting heads the last few months. She chalked it up to guilt again and the possibility that Will just cared more than he allowed to show.

He nodded, "I really want to think that, but somehow…" he ran his hand through his hair, "I don't know. I just get the feeling that-that there's something bigger, you know? Like, something's coming…the proverbial shoe that's about to drop…" he exhaled loudly, "I don't know."

Alicia nodded, "Like there's something bigger just waiting to jump out from the shadows?"

"Yeah," he said, his eyes meeting hers. "You feel that?"

"No," she said honestly. "Not with this, but I feel the same way when I think about…"

He nodded slowly, "Peter?"

"Yeah," she nodded slightly. "I always think there's more."

"Is there?"

"That's what's so hard," she shrugged. "I don't know."

"What I'd give to see the future…" he said, moving his head from one side to the other, stretching out the tense muscles in his neck with closed eyes.

The corners of her mouth turned up, though not for humor, "Yeah."

"Listen," he said, turning to her again, looking apologetic. "I'm going to have to go and drop by the hospital. I'd prefer to discuss things with Diane's brother in person rather than over the phone….would you mind-"

Alicia nodded, standing up. "I've got some things with Sheffrin-Marks, but if you need anything done, I'm here. Julius is handling delegation for Diane's pending cases?"

Will nodded, "Yes, but there's this one case," he reached for a thin folder on his table, "It's…it's the case Diane just took in recently."

Alicia took the folder and opened the few pages of the file, "Animal rights activists?"

"Yes," he nodded. "They picketed Wentworth & Lennox and this girl," he pointed to the picture of a young girl with dark blond hair and too much eyeliner. "Was in the crowd that got towed and got roughed up—Diane was going to go in a brutality suit to file against the police department and the city."

"Wentworth & Lennox?" Alicia repeated, rereading the file to make sure she hadn't gotten it wrong. "Isn't that—?"

Will nodded.

"That's what you fought about," Alicia said as the realization dawned upon her. "Last night?"

"Yes," he admitted.

"Wel-What do you want me to do?" she asked, hesitantly.

Her loyalty, of course, was to Will, but she also knew the possible ramifications she'd incur if she went against Diane's wishes, especially when it came to her pro bono cases. She'd just gotten in good working terms with Diane and so far, she'd proven to be an excellent and supportive mentor, Alicia didn't want to jeopardize that.

He let out a breath, "Do it exactly as Diane outlined in her notes. She's already made some specific points in her case, including the fact that they failed to recite the client her Miranda rights. I've read through it, it was chaos but her client was one of the few who didn't get to run away fast. There are signs of police brutality and they quote, shoved her into the police car, unqote and she hit her head."

"It looks like a clear win," she commented. "It's not needed but Diane's even labeled Miranda v. Arizona but also wrote 'overkill' underneath."

Will chuckled, "That should tell you how seriously she's taking this one."

Alicia nodded and somehow she wondered if Will would still let her do the same thing if Diane had just taken leave and not had _this _happen to her. It was a rare cynical thought and again, she was reminded how she was slowly becoming more and more like a lawyer. She reminded herself she needed a vacation.

"Okay," she nodded again, closing the folder, thankful she wasn't about to get caught up in another squabble between the partners. Hospital or not, Diane was still a force in the firm and even if she wasn't in that day, her presence was still heavily felt by the junior associate and she was pretty sure she wasn't alone in that.

"Thank you," Will said then snapped his fingers, "Damn it!"

"What?" Alicia asked.

"I forgot something," he said, dialing his phone distractedly. "Justice."

"Excuse me?"

"Justice," he said again, placing the phone against his ear, "Diane's dog?"

"Oh!" she remembered the little pooch. She'd sent the little Yorkie the first time she'd came in and remembered how it had explained its fondness of her by licking her fingers and leaving a few strands of its fur onto her lap.

She liked the name of the dog and it seemed fitting Diane would name her precious pooch that.

"He was hurt, I don't know how," Will continued, "Diane's going to kill me. I don't even know where he is right now…" He rolled his eyes. "I'm going to have to look after him…if not, he's going to have to be boarded. What do you think?"

"We never had a dog," she said with a slight smile.

Will frowned, "No dog? Your kids…?"

She shrugged, "They wanted one but…I would have ended up taking care of it anyway."

"Maybe they'd like one now," he offered. "You want to…? You know, like a test run?"

"Oh, no," Alicia said, backing away. "I'm taking this case and going now. Call me if you need anything—" her eyes widened when he grinned and opened his mouth. "Anything BUT that!"

As much as she respected Diane, Alicia did not want to take in the dog. It was cute, but there was no way she was taking the little ball of fur in. It was a potential disaster plus there was a possibility she might end up losing or, god forbid, killing the thing. She wasn't about to incur Diane's _wrath_ that way.

Will nodded, pointing at his phone when someone finally picked up, "Hi. This is Will Gardner. I was wondering if you know where…"

Alicia waved slightly, leaving the office with her new case. As far as she was concerned, she'd done her part to help Will. He can figure out what to do with the dog because there was no way she was going to. For years, Grace had asked for a puppy but they'd always weighed the pros and cons of having one.

When they were still in Highland Park, there was the danger of a puppy ruining expensive furniture and the like and she'd been able to make Grace concede when reminded she spent too much time with her friends, making it unfair to leave a puppy all alone all day. Now that they were in the metropolis where three neighbors had big dogs and with the way Grace was making little progress in making friends, Alicia was sure if they visited the topic again her daughter would have a case that could actually win the reopening of the argument.

Alicia wasn't about to let that happen. Dogs were cute but cleaning up after them and taking care of them, especially with Jackie around wasn't. It would drive her insane, or at least, homicidal.

She was willing to help Diane, but Alicia wasn't willing to gamble what was left of her sanity that way.

-o0o-

"How many people do you have out there?"

De Luca shrugged, taking back the folder slowly, "Captain's got the Chief breathing down his neck and some people requiring some ass kissing so that should tell you enough. We got every cop in town on the look out for Spellman."

"The investigation?"

"I'm waiting on forensics," De Luca shrugged, "These days, it's all about the science. We finished the scene earlier. It was a mess. Blood on the kitchen floors, a large bloody knife, some furniture…the usual. Your girl put up a fight, McVeigh."

Kurt grunted, imagining she would but preferring not to. He'd seen enough crime scenes to reconstruct how the scene might have looked, but he didn't want to, not if he wanted to keep his composure. He'd promised De Luca he'd behave, seeing those images—seeing _things _happening to Diane—it would send him off the edge easily. He couldn't afford to do that, not if he wanted to help her.

"Look," De Luca leaned forward in his seat, "I got some photos from the team who gathered some evidence on her body—she got a _lot_—and I _won't _show you, but I'll tell you, whoever did this, we'll get him. She gave us enough, Kurt. That's something."

"I know."

"This is hard for you, I get it," De Luca said sympathetically. "Don't focus on this too much…it'll take you down. Why don't you go and visit her in the hospital? I can make some calls—"

"Nah," Kurt shook his head. "Gardner's offered the same, he's listed me to allow me to get in, but…no."

"Why not?" De Luca asked. "I've seen you with women, McVeigh, but I've never seen you _this _deep. Not with _anyone_."

"She's different."

"I get that," De Luca nodded. "So what's wrong?"

"The last time we saw each other…" he shook his head slowly. "It wasn't good."

"Fight?"

"Somethin' like that," Kurt shrugged, remembering how he'd walked out. He'd almost called her that night, but had put it off the last minute. Instead, he buried himself in his work. She hadn't called then either and he'd taken that as a sign.

"You know you're too old for this high school shit, right?" he commented before finishing off his cup. "I mean, come on."

"It's complicated," Kurt said.

"Of course it's _not_," De Luca shrugged, "You fight, you apologize 'cause they say it's always our fault, crawl and beg if you must, buy them something _really _nice if you were _really _wrong then make up. It ain't rocket science."

"Well, I got pride."

"Yeah, and how's that working for ya?" De Luca raised an eyebrow.

Kurt scowled at him, which only prompted him to go on. It was amazing how even a guy his age still had something to learn about women. De Luca almost felt sorry for the bastard.

"Look, you can hang on to your pride, all right? But does pride keep you company in that riffraff farm in the middle of nowhere you insist on calling home?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "It ain't gonna make you laugh, it won't argue with you-which by the way, I know _you _like to do—it won't talk back and won't laugh at your dumb jokes…so, what _exactly _do you have again?"

"What's your point?"

"My point? Nothing," he shrugged. "Except that if you think the lady's not worth it, go ahead, keep your pride, but the way I see things…the way she's got you acting now? Deep down, you know pride's shit, only you won't admit it."

"She wouldn't want to see me," Kurt said dismissively.

De Luca shook his head, "And _how_ would you know? You know her well enough to know _how _she thinks? Come on, McVeigh. There's a reason why you haven't got a little lady at home yet, okay? You suck with women." He chuckled, "I've never met the woman, but even _I _wanna get to know her. What more you? I heard you've…you know." He grinned and waggled his eyebrows for good measure.

"_Hey_," there was that warning tone again.

"See what I mean? You're hooked, McVeigh," he chuckled. "Hook, line and-freaking-sinker…and you know what, it's about time. It's stupid if you keep fighting it so why not just _give in _because you know you're gonna in the end anyway?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. This was supposed to be an investigation, why was he being doled out dating advice for? "Don't we have a case to work on?"

"No," De Luca shook his head. "_I _have a case to work on and _you _have some making up to do. Go on, you idiot, go visit. She's still out, but seeing her will make you feel better. Trust me."

"I don't need to see her."

"And I don't need air to breathe. Bull_shit_."

"Oh, that's helpful."

"Tough love, buddy," De Luca quipped. "Helps with old stubborn asses like you."

The phone on the detective's desk began to ring and he answered and openly ignored Kurt, "Yeah?" he listened. "Uhuh…good…I'm on my way."

"What?" Kurt asked as soon as De Luca hung up.

"They got the guy."

"Who?"

"The one who tried to kill your girlfriend," De Luca said gravely, grabbing his gun, his badge and his phone then headed out.

"Where?"

De Luca stopped, "In the morgue."

-o0o-

Slipping out of the room with a nod towards the two police officers just outside the doors, Kalinda took her leave. With the uniforms posted at the doors, Spellman's photo already in their memory and pockets, she was ready to move on and continue with her main priority concerning everything that was happening at the moment. It had been almost over an hour since she actively pursued the investigation, she was sure she was lagging behind.

Kalinda was going to have to catch up and, for obvious reasons, it annoyed her.

Taking her phone out, she dialed a number quickly, listening intently as she slipped through the stairwell, stopping by the doors just to make sure she connected and got her message out before it could get cut off by a possible dead zone. Hospitals tended to have dead zones, stairwells and elevators being a few on the list of possibilities and she couldn't afford to waste time now.

"It's me," she said simply when the other end picked up. "Anything?"

Kalinda listened, more than interested with the information that was technically being leaked to her. Her lips formed a tight line, her eyes growing dark with every word that came pouring into her ears. If anyone had been watching her at the moment, one would think she was just another person making a normal, not-quite important call, but inside, she was slowly winding up in a tight ball. Damn, she was beginning to realize just how much time she'd lost.

"That's all?" she asked, her voice controlled though she was tempted to throw her phone against the wall. She'd always been controlled—a job requirement—and this served her great purpose, especially in moments like these. "Keep me updated, okay? Thanks. I owe you."

Shaking her head slightly, she began to make her descent, high heeled boots landing in soft thuds against the concrete. Aside from the fact she would encounter practically nobody there and grant her some momentary peace to think, she was also making sure Spellman wasn't using the same route to get in.

Thinking like a criminal or someone insane was also a job requirement. She'd more than once slipped into the minds of homicidal lunatics in her lifetime to know what to think and expect.

If Spellman was desperate or determined enough, this route would be easy and effective, seeing how deserted it was. After all, who would think it weird for a person to use the stairs? And that was still depending on if anyone were to even see him. Kalinda made sure to remind the 'guards' of this matter. It was too easy to miss something like that especially for officers who were more well-versed in chasing perpetrators on the streets than looking after someone and basically be stuck babysitting.

Taking each step swiftly, she began to mull things in her head. The things she already knew and the things she'd just manage to find out were slowly coming together in her mind. At the moment, Spellman was still in the wind and no one had any idea where he was. Diane's office had been searched prior to Will's trip to the precinct and the forensics team—no doubt receiving pressure from the city's higher ups since Kalinda was sure _this _was being listed as a high profile case—managed to find some _interesting _things.

Reaching the landing and pushing the doors open, Kalinda already guessed Will's day was about to get even crappier. If he saw reason to get mad at Diane for hiding Spellman from him, then the newest piece of information she'd gotten was definitely not going to help matters. Kalinda was beginning to get a good idea at _how much _secrets Diane was capable of keeping.

Will was going to _love _this.

-o0o-

"You do know I am going to catch hell for this."

Daniel leaned back against his seat, sighing. After the mysterious and oddly entertaining Kalinda had gone, with Annie still diligently working between the office and the hospital, he'd decided to resume talking to his sister. He wasn't sure if she could hear him, but talking to her always made him feel better. He was slowly realizing even while unconscious it had the same effect.

And the childish part of him almost liked that because that way, she couldn't make her playfully snide-ish comments or tease him. Not that he'd trade his vibrant, witty and intelligent twin sister for a vegetable permanently. That was unacceptable.

"_Your_ nephew has been calling me non-stop," he scoffed. "He has been leaving me messages like a lunatic—why didn't I tell him, was it true, where am I, did I leave again, am I in Chicago, are you okay, who, what, where—" he shook his head. "He's relentless and making me hate cell phones which I find to be totally absurd since I usually love them."

"So you have to wake up because I don't know where to begin to answer him," he sighed tiredly. "He is my son, but you've always been able to deal with him better than I and his mother ever could." He paused, "He respects and loves you, not that I blame him or resent him for that. We haven't been the best of parents after all…but you," he shook his head. "He's yours…isn't he? He's _always_ been yours."

He took out his phone again, "So wake up, tell him you are fine before he makes real his threat to come here. I know you'd hate it if he does because you want him to focus, but he's understandably worried sick about you. Frankly, I'm surprised he's not even here _now_."

"I know I should call him, but I honestly don't even know where to begin," he admitted quietly. "One minute, he's this little boy waiting at the door for me with his toy airplane, asking to take him with me, the next…he's a grown young man." He breathed in deeply, "And we're complete strangers, the two of us. We may have given him life, but we made the mistake of thinking that was enough." He looked at her, "But not you, right? You always knew he needed family, always tried to tell me what to do with him but I never listened."

He rolled his eyes, "And his mother…well, as brilliant as she is, she has no idea about children, does she? At least, not with the ones that are hers." He flipped his phone in his hand, playing with it. "I know she'd say she had to have her maternal instinct removed to make space for…well, for everything the devil's given her when they made a pact…"

Daniel shook his head, "But that's not really a reason, isn't it? We were horrible people like that…bringing our son into this world and ignoring him the way we did. You were right. We were selfish, too selfish. Did you know we haven't spoken since those obligatory calls last Christmas? He came to visit you, didn't he? I'm guessing after I left."

"It's my fault, but I can't talk to him alone," he said shifting slightly in his seat. He'd long ago shed his coat, leaving him in his black waistcoat though even that he was tempted to shed as well. He certainly didn't look like the troubled relative when he came in, dressed in his suit, but that was the added benefit of having someone lay out his clothes for him before leaving.

Now though, with his hair now an uncombed mess due to tense unforgiving fingers running through the dark sandy blonde-silver strands, a missing silk tie, messily rolled up sleeves and a glum look on his face, he was sure he looked the part.

"You've always been the patient one," he went on. "And I never could wait or sit still for anything in the world so wake up. Just open your eyes and wake up, Danni because this stopped being funny a long time ago."

He sighed once again as he got no response from his usually vocal twin. It was quite disconcerting to see her so unresponsive. She'd always been the braver one, the one who never felt scared in front of crowds, the one who liked being heard. He had his moments then, but she outshined him often and he never minded. It was how they'd always been.

Daniel would never admit it, but seeing her that way scared him. It was almost like she'd left him alone already and the thought made him shudder inside. He had left her so simply, traipsing all over the world and never quite sparing her enough time to actually see how she was. Daniel knew that was selfish and how he wanted for her not to leave him was plain hypocritical, but he couldn't and wouldn't deny he was. Diane was always the better one, the thoughtful twin.

The thought of having Jeffrey Spellman, the only man who ever truly scared his unfathomable sister, come back for her and actually doing this to her made Daniel feel shame like he'd never had in his life. He'd left her alone and didn't even truly talk to her about her life. Who knew what was going on? Who knew who she encountered daily? Who knew what she did or where she went? He stopped caring for her, breaking his promise to his father and his sister.

Daniel despised himself. He couldn't be angry at her for not telling him about Spellman and he wouldn't hold that against her. She'd have to have wanted to tell him, but didn't maybe because she didn't want him to worry or trouble him. She'd grown _too _independent and _that _made Daniel hate himself. They were siblings, they were _twins_, and until now, it had always meant that they'd never have to be alone. He ruined that.

"Do you remember that insipid little rhyme you drove mother insane with?" he said, preferring to continue this one-sided conversation so he could block out the thoughts that were slowly beginning to drown him. That was the depression sinking in and if he didn't stop, it was likely he was going to do something crazy that would either involve killing someone—that bastard Spellman—or killing himself.

"How did it go again?" he thought for a moment, remembering the way his mother had sighed dejectedly every time Diane recited the rhyme, "Oh, yes…

_Mary, Mary, quite contrary,__  
How does your garden grow?  
__With silver bells, and cockle shells,  
And pretty maids all in a row."_

He smiled. Oh, how that drove his mother crazy. She used to beg the mischievous little girl to stop and Danni, of course, would follow only to start humming it without actually meaning to. It often drove their mother into going to another room until Diane got over the urge to chant the rhyme. It never took long, but once Diane stopped, their mother would come back with a smile on her face that he now realized was relief.

"_Mistress Mary, quite contrary,  
How does your garden grow?__  
With silver bells, and cockle shells,  
And so my garden grows."_

"_Mistress Mary…_" he stopped, brow furrowed. "Oh, I _am _getting old. I can't seem to remember the rest…Did I mention there's a new variation to that? I think it was from years ago. It goes—"

He stopped mid sentence, blinking rapidly as he leaned closer. He was sure he'd just seen her eyes move. Logic dictated that twitching was not uncommon among people who were sleeping, but Daniel was admittedly desperate for his sister to wake. He watched, silent as if in fear the littlest noise alone could send her back into a deeper state of unconsciousness.

Silently, he egged her on, willing her to open her eyes. He held his breath without knowing he was doing so and jumped when her hand, the one closest to him and that wasn't in a cast, moved from her fingertips first before her hand curled slightly.

"Danni?" he whispered, leaning closer. It reminded him of days when they were little when they'd go into each other's rooms and whisper in the dark. Even when they'd transferred into two separate rooms they'd been inseparable.

"Hm…" she moaned, her eyes fluttering as she tried to wake up for the second time.

"Wake up, come on," he said, placing a hand gently onto her hair in a safe distance from the bandage on her head. "Open your eyes, Danni…come on."

Her fingers moved as she slowly opened her eyes, blinking a few times as her vision adjusted to the light. Dan felt himself straightening up, if only to draw himself closer to her. Her eyes flitted around the room, slowly taking in her surroundings before meeting his. She blinked again, disorientation settling and her features showing clear confusion.

"Danni?"

"Wh…" she swallowed, grimacing slightly.

Understanding, Daniel reached for the pitcher and water, pouring as quickly as he could without spilling and grabbing a straw. He'd done his fair share of hospital stays and knew how the drill worked already. He should have expected she would want water.

"Small sips or you'll get sick," he instructed as he allowed the tip of the straw to touch her lips, amused at how their roles were, for once, reversed. She flinched and tried to move her head away. "_Diane_, drink."

She stared at him for a moment then blinked again before following his command. He rarely ever used her full name on her and that was usually on days when he wasn't playful. Diane drank a little before turning her head away again waving her hand slightly. She had drunk barely enough to get her mouth and throat hydrated but she knew Daniel was right. If she drank too much too soon, the consequences would not be pleasant.

"Good girl," he said, earning a glare for that comment but only smiled as he sat back down, "I'm glad you're okay….very glad."

"D…" she swallowed again when her voice came out in a croak. "What-what're you doing here?"

"I heard a new steak house opened," he replied then smiled, "I'm here for you, what else, baby sister? For once, I'm not the one in trouble."

"What…what are you talking about?" she asked as she began to sit up. He rose to assist her but she suddenly gasped, falling back into the bed with a slight groan.

"What? What's wrong?" he asked, reaching for the button to summon someone.

"I…" she let out a shuddering breath, biting her bottom lip. "I feel like I've been hit by a bus…"

He nodded, "I've called for someone, okay? Just sit still. They'll get you something for the pain."

"What happened to me?" she asked groggily as she closed her eyes, trying hard to remember how she managed to end up in what she deduced was a hospital.

Daniel observed her, "You don't remember?"

"I…" Diane closed her eyes, trying to think as far back as she could, though in her semi-disoriented state, she didn't get much. "Dan, I…"

He saw a flash of confusion mixed with worry on her face and he leaned closer, smoothing her hair down, "It's okay, Danni. You're going to be fine, okay? I'm here."

"I-I can't remember," she said, her eyes showing vulnerability she'd only dare show to him and him alone. He'd seen her in every possible state, he was her brother and he was entitled to see her this way. "I…I don't know."

"It's okay," he nodded, "It'll come. For now, we'll have Dr. Nolan check you, okay? How does that sound?"

Diane could only nod, "Mhm…"

The sound of the door filled the room and Daniel felt Diane stiffen and he patted her hand gently, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here."

"Mr. Lock—" the nurse stopped as she saw Diane's eyes were open. "Miss Lockhart, you're awake. Good morning."

"Morning," Diane managed to say as the nurse came towards her bed, pressing the button Daniel had just pressed.

"I'm Nurse Linda," the woman said with a practiced comforting smile. "Do you remember me saying that a while ago? Do you remember waking up briefly?"

Diane almost shook her head but decided it wasn't a good idea, "No, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," the nurse said. "How are you feeling?"

She felt the urge to say 'blind' but Diane didn't know why. She certainly could see, feel and hear properly. Why would she want to say that? She settled for a simple, "Fine."

"Good," Nurse Linda nodded pulling out a stethoscope. "Are you in any pain? Any nausea? Head ache?"

"One and three," she replied, blinking a few times. "My head…hurts," she reached up, flinching when she noticed the trailing tube attached to the back of her hand, but as her hand landed on her head, she stopped, feeling something she knew _wasn't _there as far back as she could remember. "What—"

"You had a minor internal bleed, Miss Lockhart," Linda said in a gentle manner that had to be borne from years of being on the job. "It was very small and was caught early, Dr. Nolan is positive you'll make a full recovery."

"Wh-what happened?" Diane asked, forgetting the pain she'd felt before as her mind tried to catch up with events she'd obviously missed. "I had…surgery."

It wasn't a question but Linda nodded anyway, "Yes. Don't worry. We had Dr. Richter assist in closing. He's the hospital's best plastic surgeon. Won't leave a scar…"

"Richter…" she repeated. "Donald Richter?"

Linda smiled, "Yes. He knew who you were and insisted be let in on the surgery. Expressed that you would want minimal to no scarring, if possible."

Diane swallowed, "Please, send him my thanks."

"Of course," she smiled.

"Donald Richter," Daniel repeated. "Ex-boyfriend or friend, Danni?"

She shot him a glare, "We met at a fundraiser recently."

"At least her long-term memory's in tact," he muttered. "Nurse…er, Linda, could you please inquire about what her recent memory is? She was quite…confused a moment ago."

"Miss Lockhart, what can you remember from last night?" Linda asked, treading carefully.

"I…" Diane closed her eyes, feeling her head throb slightly. "I…leaving the office. I left my office…after a, uh, talking with a colleague."

She could remember Will coming into her office, ready for yet another screaming session. Diane could replay the scene in her head, remember how she'd humored him for a while then ultimately decided to walk away. She saw it but couldn't seem to remember what had been said. She was sure it was about work. It was all they ever talked about these days anyway.

"What about after?"

"I…" she was beginning to get frustrated with herself. "I…left. I was tired. I haven't been sleeping well for the past few days."

"Anything else?"

"I…I picked up my dog," she went on. "The rest... I don't know."

"Okay," Linda said, nodding. "Dr. Nolan is on his way. Is there anything I can get you?"

"She's feeling a little pain," Daniel said from his seat. "I don't know where but it's not just her head. She tried to move."

The nurse nodded, checking Diane's chart before turning to the drawer by the wall. She slipped in a small key, tapped a few numbers onto a small panel and pulled out the top drawer. She extracted a tiny bottle and a syringe.

Daniel watched, amused as his sister eyed the needle. If there was anything the fearless Diane Lockhart was secretly afraid of, it was needles. It was one of the best kept secrets of the family.

"What's that?" Diane asked, shifting slightly on the bed, wishing she could get up.

"A mild painkiller," the nurse replied. "We'll wait for Dr. Nolan to see if he'll allow this or require something milder. He'll be here any—"

"I'm here," someone said from the door. "Miss Lockhart, it's great to see you've awakened! Hello, I'm Dr. Nolan."

Diane managed a small smile but her face froze when she saw who was following him in, "Annie?"

"Miss Lockhart!" the younger woman said with a smile. "Oh, thank god!"

"Wh-what are you doing here?" she asked, wondering what her assistant was doing _away _from her desk. "Who's at—"

"Oh!" Annie ducked her head, glad she'd been right to warn the doctor her boss would ask about work when she saw her. "Mr. Gardner called me when, erm, well, he called me in and you have _nothing _to worry about—Mr. Julius Cain is taking over your cases, Mr. Gardner assigned Mrs. Florrick your new pro bono case, they have Kevin from the temp agency, the one they sent last time I missed work, covering and I've already forwarded your calls and rescheduled your appointments."

"I..." Diane began but Annie jumped again.

"And I think Mr. Gardner has Justice."

"That little mutt?" Daniel said from his seat. "That little devil is still living?"

"Daniel," Diane said, shooting him a glare then turned to Annie. "Why is Justice with Will?"

"Well…Dr. Nolan has a few doctor-ly advice to give," she began, smiling at Dr. Nolan. She'd already warned him about her boss' refusal to stay. "And since Justice is going to need a place to stay, I think Mr. Gardner wouldn't mind."

"Please inform Mr. Gardner that if he loses my dog, he will be facing litigation," Diane muttered.

She knew Will had absolutely no idea how to take care of pets, the little proud bachelor he was. She'd always told him he was too vain to even have a cute dog that would potentially take a woman's attention away from him, the flirt.

Annie smiled, "I'll tell him." She turned to the doctor, "Floor's yours, doc." She stopped when her phone began to ring, "Oh, it's Kevin from the office," she waited for Diane's approval who nodded. "Be right back."

Dr. Nolan smiled as the brunette left, "I'd like one of her, please," he grinned. "Quite an assistant you have here, Miss Lockhart. I almost envy you." He chuckled, "Now, Nurse Linda has informed me that you're feeling some pain."

"A little," she admitted as he leaned forward with his penlight, flashing them briefly into her pupils. "My head and…when I move. Tell me, was I hit by a bus?"

"Oh," the doctor stopped, turning to the nurse. "Memory loss?"

"Temporary, at best," she replied as she went to Diane's side. "Would small dose morphine be appropriate?"

Dr. Nolan nodded, "I've checked the patient's medical history. It's fine."

Linda nodded and approached Diane, reaching for the syringe and small vial she'd prepared.

"What…" Diane eyed the syringe again.

"I'll inject it into your IV line," Linda said with a slight curling of the corners of her lips.

Diane silently thanked her and waited for the drug to take effect.

"You know she's _never _been high," Daniel commented, tilting his head to the side as he observed her visibly relax.

"Shut up," Diane said as she let out a breath slowly. "Just because you dabbled in deviancy, doesn't mean I had to as well."

"This is an excellent day for role reversal," he teased, glad she wasn't affected enough not to banter with him. It was in moments when she refused to banter that were the darkest.

"Yes, I know," she hummed. "Usually, it's me picking you up from hospitals."

"It's kind of fun."

"Good for you," she replied. "Though I honestly cannot recall a time when it was fun for _me_."

Daniel smiled at the doctor, "She's feeling a lot better now."

"Was I in car accident?" Diane asked, opening her eyes again as she tried to sit up. "Somebody tell me what happened to me…please."

The nursed eased her back down and instead pressed the button to lift the bed to better accommodate her in a semi-sitting position. Diane smiled gratefully, realizing just how much better she was feeling.

"How do you feel, Miss Lockhart?"

"Better, thank you," Diane said when the bed stopped moving. "Okay…now somebody please, tell me…what happened?"

Dr. Nolan met Daniel's eyes who sighed and leaned towards his sister. Before anyone could stop him, he whipped out his phone and showed her the screen.

**CHICAGO LAWYER FOUND DEAD**

"Mr. Lockhart!" Dr. Nolan said, but Diane grabbed her brother's wrist, eyes adjusting as she read the article on the large screen of his phone.

"_Diane Lockhart, senior partner of top Chicago Law Firm Lockhart & Gardner and daughter of the late Chicago Congressman, Daniel Archer Lockhart II was brutally attacked and murdered in her Barrington Lake home late last night. Police are currently investigating, but are looking into the possibility the event may have been an unfortunate case of home invasion turned homicide…"_

Diane turned to Daniel, "I'm not dead."

"A mistake, of course," he nodded.

"But the…the _home invasion…"_

"I haven't talked to the police, but it looks like it," Daniel replied. "Somebody attacked you in your home last night, Danni…do you not remember?"

"I-No," she said, grabbing her head again, trembling fingers reaching into her hair. "I…"

"Miss Lockhart?" Dr. Nolan said softly. "What's wrong?"

"I…" she closed her eyes again, "I don't…"

Images began to flash in her mind, small clipped scenes as if she was watching a broken copy of a movie. Dark images, indiscernible sounds and a myriad of emotions flooded her sense and even as Diane tried to concentrate, tried not to let it all drown her at once, she found she could not fight against the sudden onslaught.

"_I wouldn't scream…unless you want me to cut you."_

As she watched her own memory, she had the sensation that _this _wasn't her, that whoever was being terrorized by the large stranger was _not _her, Diane Lockhart, but rather another unfortunate soul.

"_Where the hell do you think you're going?"_

And yet, she felt the fear overtake her body.

"_You bitch!"_

Parts of her remember, though it tried not to, how terrified she'd been, running. Heart racing, a sob caught in her throat, her bare feet pounding against the ground, praying for salvation that would not come.

"_I'll make you pay!"_

She had no doubt whoever said that meant every word.

"_You can't win."_

Had she?

"_I'm going to cut you in pieces, you fucking bitch!"_

She live, she obviously lived. Diane was more than thankful, but the fear stayed.

"_It was fun while it lasted…"_

The large foot, high up in the air, aiming for her, intending to deliver her to her end—

"_No…"_

Was that her? It must have been.

Diane's eyes shot open, a gasp catching in her throat as her hand flew away from her head. Her hands and fingers were shaking so hard, her IV line shook and her body was suddenly covered by a thin sheet of sweat. She felt like she'd been doused with cold water.

"Miss, Lockhart—" Dr. Nolan reached forward to touch her, but she jumped, gasping loudly in inexplicable fear.

"Danni!" Daniel stood up, ready to comfort her, but she reared back with a strangle sob, injured hand batting away at people despite the foreign weight the cast held.

"No…" she gasped, still quite caught up in the nightmare, despite the fact her eyes were wide open in fear. In her mind, she was still home, fighting for her life, fighting to live with nothing and no one to save her.

"Get me—"

"No!" Daniel said, pointing at the nurse sharply. "You're not sending her back to sleep!"

"She needs to be sedated before she hurts herself!"

"I said _no!_"

The calm that the room possessed for the first few hours of the morning was now being shattered in one moment. Diane, caught up in her nightmare, could only fight the invisible demons and Daniel, desperate not to lose her again, managed to grab her face, mindful of the bruise and careful not to hurt her further.

"Danni, wake up," Daniel said, dodging a flailing hand, thankful it wasn't the one covered by the cast. "Snap out of it!"

"No…" she gasped again, a tear rolling down her cheek as she struggled.

"It's terrifying and scary and dark," he went on. "And I know you're caught in the middle, but all you have to do is _wake up_, Danni. I'm right _here_. I'm not going anywhere, I'm here and I swear I won't leave you if you just wake up."

"Please," she whispered. "Please…no."

"Diane," Daniel said as loudly as he could as one hand slid from her face to her shoulder, pressing deeply and forcing her to stop moving. "Danni… come back. Just breathe, okay? Breathe, Danni…_breathe._"

Breathing heavily with tears slowly running down her pale cheeks, Diane's vision cleared, her eyes focusing on Daniel. The voices disappeared, the dark slowly ebbed away and she slowly found herself coming back to the present. Letting out soft sob, she let her body crumple, falling into her twin's arm as he provided comfort only he could give.

"You're okay," he whispered as she began to softly cry. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you again, Danni. I'm here. It's okay. Just breathe…"

Dr. Nolan and the nurse watched in silence as the brother tried to comfort his sister.

"I won't leave you anymore."

-o0o-

"What's going on?"

Kalinda was entering the firm again, but this time Will was rushing out, heading to the back elevators as Alicia stood watching him leave.

"Diane's awake," Alicia said simply.

"Awake?" Kalinda asked. "As in really awake or…?"

"You were there when she woke up for a bit?" Alicia asked, receiving a nod. "Well, Annie called to say she's awake and talking to the doctor now. She thinks Diane's lucid enough, but she had to step out when she got a call."

"That's good," Kalinda said, meaning it. At least, with Diane awake, they had one less thing to worry about. If she was talking already, even better because it meant they only needed her to come back in, issue orders and take someone down in court then everything would be _like _normal again. Knowing Diane, Kalinda was sure that was already on her list of things to do.

"You're back already," Alicia remarked, turning as she headed to her office. "Got anything?"

"Yeah, a body."

"What?"

"Dead body, not too far downtown," Kalinda said. "A Mark Jackson, one shot to the head, several wounds and some stab wounds."

"So who exactly is he?" Alicia asked curiously, entering her office with Kalinda in tow.

"They think he's the one who tried to kill Diane," Kalinda pulled out her notepad. "He was in jail for four years for robbery and assault, got out about five months ago."

"Why would he want to hurt Diane?" Alicia asked.

"I'm still trying to find how they're connected but evidence from the crime scene—Diane's house—just matched the DNA on a database the _same time _they were trying to identify the body," Kalinda continued. "Prints, blood and saliva were found there, it's his."

"But he's dead."

"Yup," Kalinda nodded. "One shot to the head, but he was bleeding out prior to that. If the stab wounds were made when he tried to kill Diane, it looks like she did a number on him." She paused, "It's undetermined if the shot was self-inflicted or someone did him a favor."

"So you're saying he goes to Diane's house and…" she paused, letting the void be filled by what both of them already knew happened in between, "Then leaves and gets killed?"

"I'm not saying anything," the investigator replied. "It's still an ongoing investigation."

"There was no evidence of a gun or a shot fired at Diane's place?"

"No, at least the crime scene investigations hadn't found anything of the sort," Kalinda shrugged. "The DA was quick to get permission to search the crime scene, they're already finished with the house. Last I checked they're taking the perimeter now. We'll have to see how it goes."

"They're working fast."

"It's a big case," Kalinda said simply. "You working on Sheffrin-Marks?"

"No," Alicia shook her head, motioning to a folder, "Will gave me Diane's most recent pro bono. Looks pretty solid."

"That the one they fought about again? Last night?"

"How do you know about that?"

Kalinda gave her a look and Alicia shook her head, deciding she didn't want to know. She should have known the Indian would know what happened between the partners the night before.

"What else did you get?" Alicia asked instead.

"Nothing big except that Diane's been getting threatening letters for the past few months," Kalinda said quietly, glancing outside to see if anyone had taken an interest in their conversation.

"Letters? From who?" Alicia's eyes were wide with interest and horror.

Kalinda shrugged, "Not sure yet, but they're working on it. I'm trying to get copies, but it's harder than usual since—"

"You work for the victim."

"Mhm," Kalinda nodded.

"She's been getting letters? For _months_?"

"Looks like it," Kalinda nodded. "Goes to her house, never through the firm."

"Will doesn't know…" Alicia said, eyes curious and dark. "Does he?"

"I don't think so," Kalinda said. "Which means he's not going to like this."

Alicia sighed, "He won't. Do you think they're from Spellman?"

"It's a possibility," Kalinda nodded.

"His name came up while Will was being questioned," Alicia elaborated. "Will had a bit of a blow out in the interrogation room."

"Nice," Kalinda said with a slight shake of her head. She'd heard him growling through the phone when he'd told her, she should have expected he'd lost it beforehand. "They didn't lock him up?"

"No," Alicia shook her head. "He blew up _after _he found out about Spellman being in the wind. Detective De Luca was more than understanding."

"He is," Kalinda smiled.

"Friend of yours?"

"You could say that," she shrugged. "Since Will's out and you have a case, I'm going to look in on Jackson. He has to be connected to Diane somehow…" she trailed off then found herself confessing, "This doesn't feel random."

"It doesn't?"

"No," Kalinda began to head out.

"Kalinda?"

"Yeah?" she stopped, halfway out.

"You said something about someone shooting Jackson…" she trailed off and Kalinda practically see her mind working overdrive, "You don't think he _knows _Spellman, right? Like, maybe he sent her to finish off Diane and…I don't know, killed him so it couldn't be traced back to him?"

Kalinda tilted her head to the side. She'd thought the same thing as she headed down the stairs at the hospital, "I'm looking into it."

"But it's possible?"

Kalinda nodded almost imperceptibly, "It is."

"And we can't find Spellman anywhere?"

"Yes," Kalinda nodded again.

"Oh, god…" Alicia cradled her head by her temple, "If he finds out she's alive…?"

"That's what the uniforms are for."

"Hey," Alicia said, leaning forward in her seat a little as if she'd just remembered something. "Did you get to meet Diane's brother? I didn't know she had one."

"She does," Kalinda nodded, "He's actually a twin."

"Really?" if having a sibling wasn't a surprise enough, Diane Lockhart having a _twin _was an outright stunner. "_Diane's_ twin?"

"Mhm," Kalinda forced herself not to say more. She'd always been discreet and, secretly, the petty part of her wanted Alicia to go through the same _Daniel-_effect she'd been put through. The man was incorrigible. A real, honest to god manchild.

"How was he? Is he like Diane?" Alicia was curious.

"He's…" Kalinda moved her head from one side to the other, waving a hand dismissively. "Something…"

"That doesn't say much."

"Better if you meet him," she shrugged then left with a slight wave.

Alicia watched, blinking a few times, wondering what her mysterious friend meant. She'd long ago stopped kidding herself she'd ever figure out the younger woman, but she was a good friend and Alicia honestly liked her.

Kalinda was a rare treasure, valuable to have on one's side and a great confidant. She sighed, pulling out the new case she was assigned to and decided to take Kalinda's word at face value. She'd just have to wait to meet Daniel Lockhart.

She was honestly curious about the hidden brother. How alike was he to his sister? And why did Diane or anyone else ever mention him? She couldn't remember Will mentioning them being twins, did he know? How _many _things was Diane hiding? And why the secrecy?

Sighing and deciding to focus on work, Alicia just accepted people like Diane and Kalinda were bound to exist—secretive, trustworthy and mysterious. She'd learned to live with that already, even if she felt like she was a walking open book to the world. She sort of envied them, actually.

Alicia tried reading the words on the file, her eyes falling on the flowing script that was Diane's handwriting. Like the woman herself, her cursive letters were written in a precise manner that hinted years of practice, as if she'd spent years perfecting even how she wrote her letters to show just how controlled she could be.

It said a lot about her determination and need for neatness and order. Alicia wondered if that was something she'd been born with or if she was raised to be that way. Remembering Will's comments on the woman's complex behavior, Alicia decided not to mull too much over it.

If Will, the one who actually knew Diane for years already, couldn't figure her out, what more Alicia who'd only seen the woman at work and met her only almost a year or so ago? She'd never even seen the woman _outside _work, had no earthly idea how she acted when not in lawyer mode.

Shaking her head slightly, Alicia decided her time would be better spent actually working. She would have to meet with the client later, talk to her and explain why she was taking over.

It was the least she could do to help Diane.

-o0o0o0o0o-

Okay, so this took a long time to write. I admit, I was blocked for a _long _time.

And there you go, **Diane**'s awake…and I KNOW she's _off-off_ character, but you gotta admit…she can't be as collected as the original **TGW-Diane** after what she'd been through. I promise she'll be…better next time though. Let her have her cry now, but later, I can promise the more kickass **Diane** we've seen on the show.

And I know there was a lot of **De Luca** here…I wanted to delve into **Kurt**'s side of the story, if only just a little. I shamelessly used my ole' detective for that.

**Daniel**'s been tweaked a bit and yes, I mentioned the son. You'll meet that one someday too. Won't say much…it's really all about what you guys think.

I won't complain about a specific character and instead complain about the whole chapter. It was HARD to write.

Oh, and for those curious/pissed with how Daniel's handled the situation. Diane's forgetting of the event—from what I read—is actually to be expected. The part where Dan managed to send it all careening back to her, on the other hand, is a technique the shrinks call _"flooding"_. Why would Daniel do that or if he knew _what _he was doing, stay tuned 'cause me saying would just be spilling the beans, okay?

Anyway, review or reply, react or whatever…please do because, I still love them and in all honesty, miss them. Call it shameless vanity if you want…I love reviews.

_**Oh, and last…just for fun, where do YOU guys think Justice should go while Mommy is in the hospital, hm?  
**I'd love to hear what you guys think of that._

_**Notes:**_

_**To Ellie:**_  
First off, you're in ECB too? If you are, then YES! You should start posting there. We love chatting out there about everything Christine and the rest of the world. It's fun out there, you'll meet awesome people, I guarantee that. And don't worry. I'm fine, A-okay. My car's the one who deserves your sympathy…she is simply _gone_.

Anyway, on to the review—

I'm very glad you liked the story of Dan and Danni…and you totally made me laugh when you said you're shipping Kalinda/Dan. Oh, wouldn't that be something? How do you think Diane would react to that? *giggles* I'm seriously considering this option…but I have to stop giggling about it first! And oh! You're not the first to speculate about Matthew, it seems. I'll introduce him…soon-ish. I've got drafts of him already, but you'll have to give it time. If you're willing to wait, I can promise he'll be interesting. He's going to be important to Diane and Daniel. Won't say more, okay?—though you have NO IDEA how tempted I am to keep going!—Oh! And again, you've helped me with my insecurities. I'm glad you thought Alicia was still in character…not sure about this chapter, but you'll tell me, won't you? I look forward to your reviews all the time! I love them.

And lol on Alicia supporting Team Marlboro…it does look like it, right? And what do you think of Kurt and De Luca now? I'm sure you'll let me know…won't you? I'm wondering if I put TOO MUCH De Luca this time.—you'd think I'm talking about adding too much salt in cooking, right? Pfft!

I'm shutting up about Malcolm. *smiles*

Thanks again, Ellie. You do wonders for me and I thank you for it!

Again, I'm so sorry for the wait! As the story progresses, I'm finding it harder and harder to write, it seems. *hides in shame*


	7. Chapter 7: Don't Dream it's Over

**Blackout**  
by: raileht

**Summary:** It was over. The fight in her was almost completely out and she was nearing total exhaustion. She was about to die.**  
Disclaimer: **The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.  
**Rating: **T, to be safe  
**Spoilers/Timeline:** post-finale but I've omitted some facts and scenes to better fit the story and you'll figure out which ones I hadn't included along the way. But if you have questions, just ask.

**Warning: **Bad words and a lot of violence right from the start. Will be a somewhat dark story so people will be in pain—physical and emotional. Maybe not for the faint hearted.**  
Warning#2: **

**Chapter Title taken from:**  
Sixpence None the Richer (version),_  
Don't Dream it's Over_

-o0oo0oo0o-

**Chapter Seven: Don't Dream it's Over**

"Thank you for sparing us your time, Miss Clawson."

"You're welcome," Annie smiled as she leaned back against one of the plastic seats in cafeteria of the hospital. "I'm glad to help, if I can."

"That's good, I'm Detective Adam Clancy, I work with Detective De Luca," the detective said, smiling slightly. "Actually, he's my boss and usually we do questionings together, but he's currently waiting for some important lab results so I'm going solo, I hope that's okay."

"That's fine," Annie smiled, noticing that this man was around her age, or just a few years older than her. He was tall, noticeable even while he sat across from her, with dark brown eyes and jet black hair that looked as if it hadn't been combed yet wasn't unattractive in any way.

He nodded, "I know you're tired so I won't keep you," he said as he straightened up in his seat, notepad and pen in hand. "You work for Miss Lockhart, right?"

"Yes," she answered. "I've been her assistant for three years now."

"And as you stated earlier, things that go to Miss Lockhart's office usually goes through you beforehand?"

"Yes, things go through me unless she manages to get them herself, which rarely happens," she explained. "Sometimes, things will arrive when I'm not on my desk, sometimes when she expects sometimes, things like that."

"Good, good," Detective Clancy said as he wrote then looked at her again, "In the recent weeks, has Miss Lockhart received anything out of the ordinary? Like, threatening letters or strange packages?"

"No," Annie said, shifting slightly in her seat. "I don't open Miss Lockhart's mail, that would be a federal offense, but I don't think so."

"Okay," the detective nodded. "Do you know if Miss Lockhart has enemies?"

"No, no," Annie shook her head then stopped, feeling a little dizzy and realized it must've been from lack of sleep. "I mean, no, Miss Lockhart…she's a very good lawyer, one of the best in Chicago and she can be intense in court, it's her job, after all, but she doesn't make outward enemies like that…she's a good person." Annie stopped, "People who _look _at her wouldn't know it because she's always so…put together, but she's a really kind person."

Annie paused, biting her bottom lip before continuing, "But she is a lawyer and you've heard the jokes, I'm sure. If she had enemies, then that's from the job, I think. She's a good person who just happens to be a great lawyer…people tend to _not _like that unless they're her client."

"You seem to really like your boss," Detective Clancy remarked. "That's rare with assistants of big shot lawyers."

"Well," Annie shrugged. "They don't have Diane Lockhart as my boss. She's very thoughtful, you know. She can be demanding, yes, but that's only because she wants things done right, can you blame her? She doesn't make me stay up late for work, doesn't yell or make ridiculous requests and doesn't make me do stupid things. She respects me, which I say is a great thing."

"That's good to know," the detective nodded. "I'm sure you know now that we were at your office today?"

"Yes, I heard," she smiled. "I hope you didn't make a mess, detective, because then I'd have to clean it up myself."

"Don't worry, we tried to be neat as much as possible," he said. "We went through some things in Miss Lockhart's office and found a delivery from this morning—"

"I wouldn't know anything about that," Annie explained. "I've been here since practically before the crack of dawn."

Detective Clancy nodded, "We know, but I was wondering, since you work closely with Miss Lockhart maybe you'd know, if this is a normal occurrence—someone sent some flowers to her office, white gardenias…do you know anyone who would send her something like that?"

"No," Annie said, biting her bottom lip. "I mean, Miss Lockhart likes gardenias…she likes the way they smell, but I wouldn't know who would know that. It's not really common knowledge. People at the firm would only know if they were observant, you know? She likes flowers, and actually likes having them around the firm, but gardenias are only placed in her office…are you sure the ones you found aren't from the firm's usual display?"

"Yes, we are," the detective nodded. "It was a different display, the delivery had _all_ fresh gardenias with nothing else and there was a card with the message _I'm sorry _written on it."

"Oh," she wondered who would have the need to apologize to her boss _and _send flowers.

"Now, I'm not asking you just to pry into your employer's personal life," the detective said, leaning forward slightly, "but this might be important. Is your boss seeing anyone?"

"Not that I know of," she answered, though she chose her words carefully.

"Did she recently go through a break up or something like that?"

"Well…" Annie swallowed slightly, "I don't know if they were _actually _seeing each other, but someone came by to visit Miss Lockhart recently and I _thought _they were…that something might be going on, but I must be wrong…I mean…" she stopped, "I don't want to get anyone in trouble…"

"I understand," he nodded. "But if there's anything you know…"

"Malcolm Overby," she blurted out, knowing if she thought about it more or weighed the pros and cons, she might end up not doing it. "He's…he's a lawyer, from another firm. Before Mr. Stern came back, there already rumors saying he was leaving the firm and people _thought _Mr. Overby was the next possible third partner, but…"

"You said Malcolm Overby," the detective said as he began to flip his notes.

"Yes, why?"

The detective stopped perusing his notes, staring at it for a moment before looking at her, "The gardenias with the message were initialed _M.O._ at the bottom."

"Mr. Overby sent them?" Annie asked, surprised.

"It's possible," Detective Clancy nodded, "So maybe it wasn't just business. Why do you think he'd write that particular message down?"

"I don't know," Annie said honestly. "For a while, he and Miss Lockhart communicated, but then, one day she just stopped taking his calls. She never said why, but every time he called, she wouldn't take it."

"Do you think something happened between them?"

"I honestly don't want to speculate," she answered. "She's my boss, detective, and she values her privacy very much. I respect that."

"Of course," he nodded. "When was the last time you saw them together?"

"He came by, once or twice the first time a few months back," Annie said, idly. "They looked comfortable around each other…he made her laugh, but…"

"But?"

"But then when he came by just a few days earlier," she trailed off, recalling the way Diane had closed the doors of her office, how upset the man had looked. "They spoke in her office but not long. He left and Miss Lockhart spent the rest of the day working in her office."

"She stayed in her office?"

"Yes," she nodded, "For the rest of the day."

Annie was tempted to slap herself, for sounding like an old gossip, but she thought doing so might not make her look so sane in front of the detective. It was bad enough he was a cop investigating his boss' case, she also thought he was kind of cute.

_That _thought made her really want to slap herself again. She was suppose to be talking about her boss, not looking at the detective. Annie resisted the urge to do what her mind commanded her to do to herself and folded her hands together demurely on her lap.

"Does she always do that, stay in all day to work?"

"Not really, no," Annie said with a slight frown. "I mean, usually she leaves her doors open and she takes breaks in between…she likes keeping track of the day's progress around the firm."

"But not that day, when Mr. Overby came by?"

"Yes," she answered honestly. "She canceled the rest of her schedule—she had nothing pressing lined up that day." Annie shifted slightly in her seat, "I don't know what happened, I don't want to get anyone in trouble, but…I was worried. I _am _worried about this."

"Understandable," he nodded. "You care very much for your boss, it shows."

"She's a good boss," she said simply then shook her head. "Is this going to give Mr. Overby trouble? Because, honestly, I don't know _what _exactly happened between them."

"You're just doing your job," he said in an effort to provide some comfort. "And we're just being thorough. If Mr. Overby had nothing to do with what happened, then he has nothing to hide. We're just…covering our bases, that's all."

"Yeah," she smiled, "That sounds good. Mind if I say that to my boss while she decides whether to kill me or not?"

Detective Clancy chuckled, "Sure."

-o0o-

"Hey, doc."

Dr. Tom Li looked up, seeing Detective De Luca enter, followed by another man. He gave them a grim smile before standing by the other side of the body, facing them as they stood across. "Good morning, detective."

"Good morning, Dr. Li," the detective said congenially. "This is Kurt McVeigh. He's…a ballistics expert. Worked for the city a few times."

It was the best they could do, knowing they couldn't introduce Kurt as part of the case—which he _wasn't _—when he had personal connections to the possible victim of the dead man. As it happened, there was probably evidence still on the body that belonged or related to Diane Lockhart. De Luca knew he was skating thin ice already bringing Kurt in.

"Nice to meet you," Li said with a nod. "Meet Mark Jackson, gentlemen. As you can see," he motioned to the body. "He recently went through some…interesting things before succumbing to death courtesy of this," he pointed to the hole on the forehead. "One shot to the head, clean and at close range."

"Self-inflicted or did someone else pull the trigger?" De Luca asked, leaning closer to the body.

"Not sure yet, but maybe Mr. McVeigh can—"

"No," De Luca shook his head, "Mr. McVeigh is just…well, it's like bring your kid to work day, Li, only he's not my kid and is just a giant pain in the ass that _won't _go away."

Li glanced at Kurt who shrugged then returned to staring at the near naked corpse on the table. Aside from the cloth covering his modesty, the man was spread out for the three men to observe. There were tattoos, mostly signs of someone who'd been in prison for quite some time, some scars and a number of obviously very recent injuries and wounds.

"Ah," Li nodded. "Well, moving on then." He motioned to the body again, "We're still processing so we can't tell for sure if the gunshot was self-inflicted or not, but I can tell you Mr. Jackson here has quite a colorful history. He's six foot three, brown eyes, Caucasian with a string of priors and a few years in jail under his belt."

"Few?" De Luca snorted, "The guy practically grew up in and out of 'em. Petty crimes, until he got caught and sentenced a few years back for robbery and assault."

Li nodded in agreement, "We were running his DNA for ID while at the same time the lab was already running his DNA and prints through the database for your investigation, detective."

"The one at Barrington Lake," De Luca nodded. "Diane Lockhart."

"Yes," Li nodded. "I managed to read a section of the pending report and I can say basing on Mr. Jackson's injuries and the description of the crime scene, including the blood trail leading outside and away from the Lockhart property, _this_," he motioned to the body again, "Is the man who attacked Diane Lockhart."

"Are we sure?" De Luca asked, observing the deep cuts on the man's palm, the wound on his forearm and the deep gash that from one eye down to his cheek.

"Yes," Li replied. "We've put in a rush for all the samples to be processed for a definite confirmation. This includes the samples the lab got from Miss Lockhart."

"At the hospital?"

"Yes," Li nodded. "As you can see, Mr. Jackson here was quite busy shortly before his demise. "Bruising on the side of the head here, my guess is from a harsh blow, blunt object or a fist maybe," he pointed to the temple, showing a large bruise. "And this deep gash," he motioned to the cut on the man's face starting from one eye following down to his cheek, "Like someone tried to claw his eyes out, see?"

"Mhm," De Luca nodded, remembering Diane Lockhart's nails—long and red, long enough to inflict such damage. "From a struggle…"

"They found blood and tissue samples from under the victim's nails," Li nodded solemnly, "I am not privy to her injuries, but I believe she fought him, _hard_. His hands," with a gloved hand he pulled up both hands, rotating the stiff wrists as he showed the palms, exposing them to the light to show deep gashes. "Have these deep cuts, I'm guessing from a knife…"

De Luca nodded, "Bloody knife found at the scene, blood all over. He must've gotten the blade end during the struggle."

"A painful way to try and stop a knife from coming at you," Li remarked then turned one forearm, "And some wounds here, deep as well, sliced through skin and muscle. He was bleeding, profusely. When we came to collect him, there was a lot of blood in the front seat."

"Like he just sat there, waiting to die?" Kurt asked, forgetting the rule one rule De Luca had asked him to follow.

"McVeigh."

"I guess," Li managed to throw in as De Luca growled.

"Li!"

The doctor shrugged, "He's got a few wounds, but they're all deep. I won't hesitate to say Miss Lockhart is a fighter. These wounds," he motioned to the hands and the forearm again, "Had she hit an artery, maybe in his wrist, she would have finished him off faster on the spot. She missed, by a few inches, although the wounds from the knife still left him bleeding. Either way, he was gone, especially since the area we picked him up from was nowhere near a hospital or clinic."

"Not like he had a choice," De Luca snorted, "If he came in looking like that, he'd had have to answer some questions. Unless he was willing to confess, he was screwed either away."

Li agreed, "It just wasn't his day."

De Luca nodded, "Thanks Li, if you get anything else, you know where to find me."

"Sure," Li nodded.

"I'm just going to kick Mr. McVeigh out of the building now," De Luca said, pushing Kurt slightly out of the room. "Team's still working on the guy's vehicle?"

"Yes, sir," Li answered. "It was good to meet you, Mr. McVeigh."

He waved but it didn't matter when De Luca already managed to muscle out the other man. Li shook his head, turning to the body then clucked slightly, wagging a finger at the dead man.

"Looks like you picked the wrong woman today, Mr. Jackson."

-o0o-

Daniel sat back, watching his sister as she stared off into space, seemingly lost in thought. Upon Dr. Nolan's advice, she'd been scheduled for an MRI in the afternoon and had been advised to try and relax while she waited. She'd been uncharacteristically silent since he managed to calm her down and it made the male twin wonder if perhaps something had caused her personality to change.

She barely reacted when the doctor expressed his wishes that she stay for at least two days in the hospital to make sure she was progressing properly which was telling enough to someone who knew her. Daniel was glad to have her back, but somehow, he also worried if the procedure she was scheduled for might reveal something he wasn't equipped to handle.

In all honesty, Daniel wasn't sure if he would be able to cope if something was seriously wrong. It scared him, how alive she was, how _awake_ she seemed yet still have the possibility that somehow, there was something lurking underneath, something waiting to destroy the borrowed peace they were now sharing.

He could barely tolerate to look at the bruise on her face and the ones around her neck, but to have something else add to the whole thing, brain damage or something even more terrible, he was sure he'd be more than tempted to tear apart the entire city, if not the entire country, finding the bastard responsible. The thought alone of being left in the same room as her attacker was enough to let Daniel tap into the darker side of his being.

Murderous thoughts, remembering guns, ways to kill, doing things one would only dare watch on television or the movies, those were the thoughts that lingered as he sat by his sister's bedside. To see her be almost despondent and quiet was enough to turn him into something darker, something even she would not be able to readily accept but Daniel would brush aside his humanity to bring pain to whoever hurt her.

He wanted revenge, but could he be blamed for wanting that? Someone had hurt his sister, his twin. That was something unforgivable. He was the big brother, it was his job to make sure things like _this _did not happen to her, despite her stubborn insistence that she could be by herself, that she could handle anything.

Catching a glance of his unusually silent sister, Daniel reminded himself his dark thoughts needed to be kept away for later. Thoughts like this were not supposed to be brought around his sister, especially in her state. It was bad enough what she faced in her work, he wasn't going to add to that by bringing his own darkness into her world.

It was amazing what silence could do to his mind. Daniel never liked the silence. It was always too loud in a way that _nothing _could ever drown it.

"Danni—"

"If you ask me if I'm okay _one more time_…" Diane stopped, mid-threat then turned to him, eyes unusually darker. "I'm…I'm sorry. I'm fine."

She was never one to snap, at least not at him, but he was willing to brush it off. She'd been through a lot enough and she was definitely allowed to be a little more than irritable. Still, it was yet another sign that made him silently worry of what was coming next, but the look of genuine contrition on her face was enough to convince him she was still his sister.

"Five," Daniel said instead, cocking his head to the side as he observed her.

"Excuse me?" Diane said, looking confused for a moment.

"That's the fifth time you've said the word _fine_ in the span of thirty minutes," he said simply.

"That's because _I am_," she shrugged. "I mean, I blubbered for an idiot, but that was…nothing." She shifted slightly on the bed, "I'm…okay."

He let the corners of his lips curl up, "Danni, you needed the cry. It doesn't mean anything."

"Of course not," she said with false bravado.

He knew she perceived crying to be a weakness, but it didn't apply to everyone, no, to his sister, the crying rule was only applied to her. She didn't like to cry and rarely allowed herself to. It wasn't her _thing_. It was like a double standard for her and the rest of the world.

"You were never the crying type," he remarked. "Barely a peep from you, mother would always say, do you remember?"

"Of course," she nodded. "But that's because you cried enough for the two of us. _You _were the tantrum thrower, not I."

He nodded, "What can I say? I liked being heard."

"Yes, you did," she smiled a little. "_And _you were impatient. You still are—on both counts."

He nodded and shared a smile with her as they settled into a less than comfortable silence. This was new to them, they used to be able to sit in the briefest moment of silence but it'd never been awkward. Daniel decided to use the usual approach with Diane, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Biting the bullet, no pussyfooting, no small talk and just the classic yet effective direct approach—Diane hated bullshitting especially with family. With the job, it was a requirement, with them, it was unacceptable. They were beyond that.

"Talk about what?" but apparently, today was a different matter. At least, for Diane. He would mark this day on his calendar as the one day his sister tried (_and_ failed) to play stupid.

"The chick in the ER," he said sarcastically. "Danni, come on. I'm serious."

"No," she said simply, shaking her head slightly as her hand flew to her neck without her actually meaning to. Diane avoided her brother's eyes, eyes so similar to her own, as she let out a breath loudly. "There's nothing to talk about."

"But you remember," the haunted look in her eyes told him she did and no matter how much she lied, he knew the truth.

"Barely," she lied then realized it wouldn't do her any good. She'd made a name for herself for being a damned good lawyer, but even until now, she still couldn't lie to her brother's face.

"The pointer finger of your right hand twitched," he said smoothly though he was lying through his teeth. "You're lying."

"It didn't," Diane said, careful enough not to sound defensive though she still subconsciously hid her hand from view. "And I am not."

"You cried, Danni," he said quietly. "And that's not a bad thing…" he leaned forward in his seat, reaching for her right hand and pulling it into both of his. "I'm right here, Danni. I'm listening so…tell me. Talk to me."

"Daniel," she said just as quietly. "I…please, don't make me do this. Not right now."

"What better time than the present?" this was not his sister, he thought sadly. Somehow, she was different and he couldn't help but wonder if this change was already there before the attack and something else had caused it or this was just another effect. Considering the things she'd kept from him, Daniel honestly couldn't be sure.

"It's not that simple," she pulled her hand away, crossing her arms over her chest, turning away from him as she closed her eyes, biting her bottom lip. "This is different, it's not something we can just…put out _there_, Dan…this is…."

He watched as she slowly shook her head, "I know you're scared."

"You don't know anything," she whispered.

"Danni."

"Stop," she said harshly. "Daniel, please, stop…if you don't, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." She breathed in, "And you know we _both_ don't want that."

"Okay," he nodded, conceding defeat. "Okay. We won't talk about it, at least…not today."

Diane was tempted to say _not ever_ but decided not to. Daniel had always been pushy, especially when she needed to confront things she didn't want to. It was the way things had always worked, but this time, it _was _different. This was something Diane couldn't share.

She'd just have to make Daniel see that, if not, let him see for himself eventually.

"Thank you," she said instead, easing back into the pillows. He was watching her, she knew and felt him, but she tried not to let her discomfort of his doing so show.

Diane almost closed her eyes but found she couldn't. The last time she'd done that, she had wound up reliving hell and she wasn't sure if she was ready to face that again. Not that she would tell Daniel. She couldn't go back, not yet, not when she could still practically taste her own fear in her mouth.

"You never have to be scared of anything," he said quietly. "You won't be alone now, Danni, believe me when I say I'm not going anywhere anymore."

"No, Daniel," she said, just as quietly. "Just because _this _happened doesn't mean you stop living," she turned to him, her eyes showing that fire he was sure was gone. "_This _doesn't change things as long as we don't _let it_, do you understand? _This_ was _nothing_."

"It's _not _nothing!" Daniel said, his voice growing harsh at the thought of just brushing off what had been done to her. "Someone _hurt _you, Danni, someone _tried to kill you_. THAT changes things no matter how many times you say it doesn't."

"Dan—"

"No!" he said, shaking his head slightly, raising a hand to stop her. "_You _did not get out of bed after being called and told your sister was attacked and had to go into surgery! YOU did not have to sit in a plane, wondering if you'll ever see me again and YOU _didn't _have to step into this goddamned city, wondering if things will _ever _be the same again because you weren't there to protect the only real family you had left!"

"Daniel, don't be ridiculous…" she tried to brush him off though his words hit her hard. If she'd gotten the same call, had to fly off to god knows where just to see if her twin was still alive, Diane knew she'd be in hell too.

"No, _don't _you dare brush this off," he said, leaning closer as his hands grabbed onto her arms, his grip firm yet not hurtful. "I wasn't there, Danni, and I'm so sorry…it drives me insane to even imagine what I would do if something happened to you, okay? So please, don't call this ridiculous because it isn't."

"Okay," she said, seeing how affected he was by what had happened to her. She honestly hadn't considered how he was really feeling during all this. She should have expected he was putting on a show, pretending he was okay when he really wasn't, at least, not completely. "I'm sorry."

"No," he shook his head, "You can't be sorry, not over this, all right?" He sighed, his hands slowly letting go, "Did I hurt you? I'm sorry."

"You didn't," she shook her head. "I think they pumped me with enough drugs. You can probably run me over and I wouldn't feel a thing."

He nodded, "I…"

The words died in his mouth, though he wasn't even sure if he had any. Daniel watched Diane, saw the visible bruises that were on her face and neck and it hit him just how close he came to losing his sister. No doubt, whoever had done this had tried to _break _her neck. It made Daniel's blood run cold just imagining someone doing that to her.

Daniel decided if he ever got the bastard in the same room he'd kill him. Fuck the law, he decided. Even his sister wouldn't be able to stop him. He was going to kill the son of a bitch, whoever he was and he was going to suffer.

He swallowed but his throat felt dry then looked away when he realized he'd been staring at the marks on her neck. He knew if she caught him staring too long, she would want to see what he was seeing, see how she looked.

Daniel didn't want her to go through that, not yet when she'd just recovered from revisiting hell. Even _he _knew the possible ramifications seeing herself, how she looked at the moment. It could cause even more emotional and psychological stress and traumatize her even more. Daniel hated how he was dancing on a high wire act. With one slip, he knew everything could fall apart.

Showing her the article about her "death" was one thing, showing her how the attack left her was another. Daniel knew that alone would be enough to send her into another emotional spin no matter how strong she'd made herself to be. He knew her well enough to know her limits.

"Dan," she said quietly, mistaking his silence for something else and he was glad she hadn't noticed his staring. She'd gotten a different idea from his sudden inability to speak, he thought with relief. "I am…_afraid_, just like you are, but I don't want this to change things."

"It already has, Danni," he replied, placing his hand on top of hers. "You're going to hate that it has, but you can't change it. I'm staying, whether you want me to or not, okay? So shut up and rest. You need it."

Diane smiled a little, "I'm the bossy one, not you."

"You're the one stuck in a hospital bed, not I," he shrugged. "I get bossing rights, for now, which is a relief, by the way, because it was always me on the other end of this."

"You were a magnet for disaster," she said idly.

"I still am," he admitted. "Ever had a camel spit on you?"

That got a laugh out of her, "Egypt?"

"Yes, oh, the joys of halitosis!"

Daniel smiled, feeling an immense amount of relief wash over him to hear her laugh like that and see her finally become animated, as if she was _truly _herself again. He liked hearing her laugh so he grinned and began to tell her the story of his latest trip from Egypt.

"So I stand there and _thwap! _And there's this big _disgusting _gunk of _spit _in my hair and my clothes in the middle of the goddamned desert_... _I swear the wretched thing hated me…"

Her laughter echoed in the sunlit room.

-o0o-

Will leaned back against the wall across the door to Diane's room. A few feet away, the uniformed police officers stood, glancing at him every now and then, waiting for him to go in. Since he arrived, he'd spent the entire time staring at the door and wondering whether or not it was a good idea to go in.

Annie was being questioned by someone who worked with Detective De Luca, but didn't fail to inform him that Diane was indeed awake and was currently with her brother. Will hung back after claiming he didn't want to intrude so the younger woman didn't push but told him instead that Diane's brother was nice and wouldn't mind if he went in.

In a way it was true, Will didn't want to intrude on his colleague and her brother. Diane rarely spoke of her family, but when she did, he could see she adored her brother. He could hear in her voice that she missed him and Will could imagine that she'd been missing him for a while now, considering Christmas was still a few good months away.

Then again, there was that spiteful little voice in his head, taunting him viciously that the real reason he couldn't go in was because of the way things ended between him and Diane the last time they saw each other.

It was hard for him to believe it was less than twenty-four hours ago that all the things that had happened in between happened. It was almost surreal when he thought about it, it had only been a matter of _hours _but he was already feeling so tired and bedraggled, his body felt as if it'd been overworked for months on end already. Time was barely crawling towards lunch, the day only half over, but Will felt like he'd been in this limbo forever.

What was the last thing she said to him that night? Was it good night? Or did she leave with the same parting words she did the other time they fought about what happened between her and Kurt McVeigh. Yes, she had asked him to turn out the lights. How long ago was that?

She said goodnight, but he didn't. He'd ignored her, because he was angry, because he was emotional and she was so calm, he hated her for it. Yes, he was being honest if only with himself, it irked him how she could maintain her cool. Then again, she hadn't been _that _calm the night before. She'd screamed back, a rare occurrence, but he'd provoked her into doing so.

The spiteful voice in his head told him he was feeling guilty and proceeded to mock him for it. He was a lawyer and one of the best defense attorneys in the greater Chicago area, he'd even gone as far as slamming a Federal Judge in her own courtroom, but here he was, scared to enter the hospital room of a woman he'd known for years, a woman who was injured, who was probably incapacitated in some ways.

Cruel laughter echoed in his mind as the vicious voice continued to taunt him, what a wuss—he'd been so brave last night, what was he doing lingering out in the hallway now? Guilt, it was something, all right. Powerful and potent, if used properly and Will's conscience—he wasn't even sure if he still had one but obviously he still did—was using it to the best of it's abilities on himself.

He shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck and tucking one hand into his pocket as he surreptitiously glanced up at the two uniforms not too far away. They weren't looking at him now, of course, he had clearance after all, but he knew they'd been observing him for a while. Belatedly, he wondered how stupid he looked, staring at a closed door with a god knows what look he had on his face.

Will wondered if he was really scared of Diane, of all people, or if he was scared of _how _she might react to the sight of him. They hadn't left things in the best of terms and he'd been less than cordial with her the past few weeks. He worried she might react badly to seeing him, especially now, after what happened. He worried her reaction, should it be _bad, bad,_ might lead to causing her more harm. Will didn't need or want that, no thank you.

God knew he had enough on his mind, he didn't need more to pile up at the moment.

Breathing in deeply, Will realized he was beginning to get angry at himself. It was the voice in his head, though that vicious thing was annoying too, but mainly it was _him_. Here he was, standing outside his partner's hospital room, wasting the day away when he should be at the firm, making sure things were running smoothly for her return, there was a killer on the lose, possibly out to get her—a looming threat he _should _have stopped or talked to Diane about.

Will had dropped the ball, plain and simple. _This_, whatever had been going on with Diane for the past few weeks, must have been bothering her and Will was sure he knew her well enough to know if something was happening. She was a good liar and a great actress, but sometimes, things slipped, sometimes her façade crumbled around him, mainly because he knew where to look if there were any cracks.

It was his fault, whether or not Diane kept things secret, it was his fault because in the past, she could come to him, would have come to his office and told him if something was wrong. How long had she been keeping this thing about Jeffrey Spellman? Was she bothered at all? Was she coping? Did she even take some sort of precaution, just in case? The questions never stopped.

She'd been right the night before, they were friends _once_ but something changed along the way. They were inches away from pushing each other over the edge, inches away from totally alienating each other and ruining everything.

He was sure, if she'd stayed last night, things would have escalated up to the point of no return. Will had been so furious with her, so frustrated, he was on the verge of pushing _every single button _he knew to push and he _knew _doing so would have been enough to break her and everything between them.

If Diane hadn't stopped and walked away, they would have been ruined, Will was sure of it.

Shaking his head, Will wondered how they could let things spiral out of control between them like that. How could he let _that _happen? That was the danger of knowing somebody as well as they did each other, they knew how the other's mind worked, knew their weaknesses, knew exactly how to push each other's buttons.

This was a bad idea, he decided and began to walk back down the hall leading to the elevators. He'd give them some time to catch up and he'd talk to them later. He was sure Annie had things covered so it was his job to make sure things were going well at the firm. God only knew how many calls were being fielded now from 'concerned' clients and acquaintances.

"Hey, wait," Will looked up, seeing one of the uniforms stopping a man holding a bouquet, flowers, his face hidden behind the assortment of flowers.

"Delivery for a Miss Diane Lockhart," the man said, face still hidden behind the blooms.

Will frowned, stepping closer to the man, leaning forward in an effort to get a better look at him, "I'm Will Gardner, I work with Miss Lockhart. May I ask who they're from?"

"I don't know, sir," the man said, shifting slightly, the flowers quivering and swaying a little. "I just deliver, not much else."

"What's your name?" Will asked, motioning for the police officers to come forward.

"Uh…what for?"

"Just wanna know," Will said casually. "Would you show me your face?"

"Uh…"

"Come on, we're just talking here," Will said, lifting his hands up though it didn't matter since he was pretty sure whoever this man was, he could barely see through the arrangement. Will felt his heart begin to race, wondering if this was the same man who had attempted to kill Diane, wondering if he'd come to finish the job.

This was turning into something like out of bad movie, but despite how stupid it all seemed, it still made Will's heart thump heavily against his chest.

"I just need to deliver these…"

"I can take that," Will said, shrugging in an attempt to look casual. His palms were beginning to feel clammy. "Diane Lockhart is my partner."

"No, I can't do that, sir," the man said, moving slightly, but Will stepped further into his way. "I-I have to give them myself."

"Sir, could you put the flowers down for a moment?" one of the officers said calmly—clearly they were reading the same situation as Will.

"No."

"Sir, put the flowers down, put your hands—"

Before anyone could stop him, the man jumped, throwing the bouquet at the police officer's direction with a slight scream before turning to Will. The bouquet fell, the vase it came with shattering loudly, echoing and alerting the nurses at the station.

Will froze, raising his hands higher in front of him, "Whoa, buddy!"

Despite the hard beating of his heart and the growing bile that was beginning to rise from his throat, Will knew immediately this was _not _Jeffrey Spellman. In fact, taking a closer look, Will realized he was dealing with a much younger man. The _kid _standing in front of him looked like he was barely out of college, maybe around twenty-two or three.

Will wondered what the hell was going on.

"Freeze!" the other police officer demanded. "Don't move."

"What-?" the kid stuttered, his hand still in his jacket. "I was just—"

"I said _don't move!_"

"Okay, okay," he said. "Seriously, I was just—"

"Take your hand out, slowly and put both your hands behind your head."

"Whoa, fellas, come on," the kind began to grin, "I'm just—"

"DO. IT!"

"Hey! EASY!" the delivery man said, raising his hand to his head and turning back to at Will. "Mr. Gardner, I'm Angus Carrier from _Daily Chronicle—"_

Will felt himself stiffen, "_What?_"

"I was hoping I could get—" Angus made a move to reach into his pocket again only to have the police officer—the one he'd tossed the vase at—grab him roughly, pulling his arms behind his back. "Hey! Police brutality! Stop this! I have rights! Get off me!"

"I want press and media out of here!" Will growled at the police officer, seeing red now. How dare they come in here and try to invade Diane's privacy? He'd torn the local news channels a new one, apparently, the papers needed the same treatment. "I want this hospital CLEAR of ANY PRESS! Get out!"

"Mr. Gardner, is it true that you wanted Miss Lockhart out of the picture—"

"Shut up!" the police officer said, dragging him towards the elevators. "You threw that at me, that's assaulting an officer."

"With Miss Lockhart out of the picture, you get full control of—"

"You have the right to remain _silent_."

"Bring him in," Will commanded, standing in the middle of the hallway, blocking the way to Diane's room as he tried to ignore once again being accused of hurting her. He was furious, but he wasn't going to let some punk get the better of him. "I want him locked up!"

But that didn't mean he was going to go easy on him either.

"Mr. Gardner, is it true that you could benefit if Miss Lockhart was no longer in the firm—? You can lock me up, Mr. Gardner but the truth will still come out. You—"

"Shut up!"

"But Mr. GARDNER! The TRUTH _will _set you free!"

"Yeah, yeah, and that's how they convinced Manson to turn himself in! Shut up."

Will closed his eyes, clenching his fists at his sides as he forced himself not go after the little punk. How dare he insinuate the same crap he'd just had to face down at the precinct? He'd yelled it through the hallway, maybe he was still yelling and people could hear. Will was sure he could get the little punk for defamation of character, or at least, slander.

"What just happened?" someone asked and Will turned to see Annie already back with Detective Adam Clancy, who'd gone with her to the cafeteria question her. She had a fresh cup of coffee in hand, rings under her eyes and a look of bewilderment mixed with apprehension.

"Is Miss Lockhart okay?" Annie asked worriedly, tiptoeing among the pieces of broken glass and scattered flowers.

"She's fine," Will said, glancing at the police officer who was holstering his weapon back. "Some reporter tried getting in with flowers."

"We thought he was pulling out a gun on Mr. Gardner," the officer said, dangling a small digital camera from his hand, "He wanted to see if he could get pictures for his piece."

"What paper?" the detective asked.

"Daily Chronicle," the officer snorted.

The detective shook his head, "Those kids need to learn a thing or two about messing around with our cases…"

"What are you talking about?" Will asked, turning to the detective.

"The Daily Chronicle is a new paper, run by a bunch of college drop-outs who think they can take Chicago by storm through their writing," Detective Clancy explained. "They're always out scouting for 'the scoop', bothering crime scenes and trying to get in on investigations."

"Why isn't anyone doing anything about this again?" Will wondered aloud, frustrated. The last thing he needed was to deal with fame-hungry kids who wanted to play with the big leagues. They were always the most annoying and the most full of trouble. He didn't have the patience to deal with them.

"Constitutional rights," Detective Clancy said with a slight roll of his eyes. "If there's anything they did right, it was study the constitution, they know how we can't touch them and what loophole to slip through in case they get in a tangle. They're slippery that way, untouchable."

Will's eyes darkened, "Not after I'm through with them."

"Well, then, on behalf of the Chicago Police Department, thank you," Detective Clancy said with a slight grin. "It'd help us to get them off our backs."

Will nodded, "They can't keep pulling stunts like this, my colleague is still in recovery and barely twelve hours has passed since the attack, they can seriously endanger her well being."

"Of course," the detective nodded in agreement.

Annie nodded empathetically, "I'm going to check if Miss Lockhart's okay. If they heard anything from out here, they're probably wondering what's going on." She turned to the detective, "That is, if there's nothing more, detective?"

"No," he smiled. "If there is, we'll contact you."

Annie nodded, "Okay." She turned to Will, "Mr. Gardner? Would you like to come in now? I'm sure Miss Lockhart would like to see you."

"Oh, uh…"

"She also said that if anything happens to Justice, you should be ready for litigation," she grinned. "She's really doing fine, Mr. Gardner. Having her brother around has really helped."

"That's good to know," Will nodded. "But, uh…"

"Come on," Annie said, motioning with her head to follow her. "I've given her an update on the firm's status so it should be safe."

Will almost said something on the contrary but held his tongue as he realized he had no choice but to follow. If he left, he was sure Annie would tell Diane he'd been there and hadn't bothered to come in which, he imagined, could possibly cause more conflict between them. Things were hard enough, he couldn't leave without speaking to her.

He didn't want to risk leading her to assume that he didn't care or that he was angry at her because he honestly wasn't. If anything, he knew he owed her an apology.

With a slight sense of trepidation, Will followed Annie in, hanging back a few steps just in case. Upon entering, they could hear Diane speaking to someone. Annie glanced at Will, beckoning for him to follow as she led him into the room.

Just inside, Daniel was slumped standing against the wall, staring at his sister with a slight scowl. Diane was propped up on a few pillows and was speaking into the phone with a slight smile on her face. Annie glanced at her boss then turned to Daniel, "Should I leave or—"

"She's just talking to Nick," Daniel said, waving his hand in the air.

"Oh, good," Annie smiled then gestured to Will, "This is-"

"Will Gardner," Daniel said pleasantly, offering a hand to Will. "I think we met a few years back. Around Christmas."

Taking the offered hand, Will maintained a firm grip as he nodded, "Daniel, good to see you again. We met when you dropped by unannounced at the firm to pick up Diane for dinner."

"Ah, yes," Daniel nodded, smiling slightly. "She punched me, didn't she?"

Will grinned, "She did."

"Well, it's her fault," he scoffed, glancing at his sister as she continued to speak on the phone. "She's been warned time and time again, if I'm not locked up….I terrorize the village people."

Annie smothered a laugh, "Did Nicholas finally get through?"

Daniel sighed, "Yes. Has he been calling you as well?"

"He called a few times," she shrugged to show it didn't bother her. "But it's understandable…he was very worried about Miss Lockhart."

"Of course he was," Daniel nodded.

Will's brow furrowed, "I don't mean to be rude, but who are you talking about?"

"Nicholas, my son," Daniel tilted his head to Diane's direction, "But it's mostly biological. Every time I manage to catch him, he acts more and more like my sister."

"Oh," Will nodded, wondering if Diane had ever mentioned having a nephew. He was sure she didn't. Once again, Will wondered why Diane had to be so secretive. Privacy was one thing, to hide one's own family was another. Setting his mouth in a grim line, Will watched, observing his partner, if only to see whether or not the attack had caused any further damage.

It was rare to catch her unguarded, but often it was then where Will would see her at her truest form for it revealed so much of what she hid. To see her that way, it often left him amused because, though he'd never tell her, she was quite funny even without meaning to. She was always so intent on being the tougher one, _the brass, _because she was the female partner as if even though she'd already proven herself, she felt she needed to remind people just _why _she was _the_ Diane Lockhart.

She was smiling as she held on to the cell phone with one hand while she flexed the fingers of the other one that was dominated by a hardened cast. Annie hovered close by, but Will barely noticed her as he found himself being granted the opportunity to, for the first time in a long, long time, observe Diane while her defenses were down and she was nothing but carefree.

The bruises were still very much there, but the smile on her face was enough to make Will see past them. She looked calm, relaxed even and if he hadn't known what she'd gone through, he would have just imagined she'd just met some sort of unfortunate accident. It surprised Will that she could even look like that when he imagined she would be distressed or even troubled after such an ordeal. He should have known better, he realized.

"Honestly, darling, I'm fine," Diane was saying, not at all sounding like the way she usually did. Her tone suggested a softness Will could honestly say he'd _never_ witnessed coming from her. "I'm sorry you were so worried. I'm sure it must have been a shock, reading something like that…don't worry, darling, I'm okay …You don't have to come, no…" she shook her head slightly. "Believe it or not, your father has been taking very good care of me...Oh, don't talk like that."

Will watched, fascinated as she fidgeted slightly, smoothing the sheets down clumsily with her partially cast covered hand. He'd never quite seen her that unsettled, but he could see her state was not out of _her _own ordeal, but rather concern for the person at the other end of the call.

"Honestly, Nicky, I am _fine_, okay? Now, if there's _anything _at all, I'll make sure you're informed, all right?...it's a promise..." she stopped and Will could see sadness on her face, "I'm so sorry, darling…I know…Take care of yourself…" she chuckled, "I will, Nicky. I love you too."

Diane ended the phone, staring at the device before looking up, "Well, you'll be glad to know your son is almost willing to forgive you for—" she stopped as soon as her eyes fell on the other two people in the room she'd failed to notice. "…Will."

The tone of her voice didn't suggest hostility but rather registered shock at seeing him there, as if she hadn't expected to see him. Will couldn't figure out which was worst—being greeted with anger or with surprise, as if she didn't think he'd care enough to come. That said a lot about the tattered remains of their friendship.

Will couldn't explain the sudden lump in his throat as he all but managed to choke out a quiet, "Hi, Diane."

-o0o-

"Hey, what are you up to?"

Kalinda looked up to find Alicia standing by the doors of one of the conference rooms in the firm. She was holding a folder to her chest, most probably the case from Diane that had been passed on to her. She motioned for her to come in, knowing well enough she could trust the older woman.

"Close the door," she said simply as her eyes fell back on to the screen in front of her.

"I'm working on that case from Diane, but it looks like an easy one," Alicia said as she followed, closing the door behind her and slipping into the room. She glanced to the side, noticing that the blinds had been drawn and, being one of the few conference rooms not surrounded by glass, Kalinda had pretty much hidden herself from the firm.

"Mhm," Kalinda hummed though her dark eyes didn't leave the screen of her laptop.

"What's that?" Alicia asked, curious now. Usually, the Asian was more attentive so therefore, it meant there was something _a lot _more interesting in her laptop than what Alicia had to say. She didn't take offense of course, knowing just how focused the woman was capable of being. She was young, but her intelligence and her maturity clearly surpassed her age.

"These," Kalinda said, tilting her head towards the screen as she turned it towards Alicia, "Are the letters the police found in Diane's study in her home office."

"That was quick," Alicia said, leaning forward to see the screen better.

It appeared as if someone had taken picture of the letters and passed them on to Kalinda. Sometimes, the woman's connection worried—though _scared_ was sometimes an applicable adjective—her and she'd long ago decided not to question it_ too much_. She got the job done, that was enough for her, or at least she was trying to make herself believe it was enough for her. Curiosity had a way of creeping up, but Alicia fought it when she could.

"I've been pulling on a lot of strings today," Kalinda said dryly, "But look…"

Alicia scanned the letter displayed in front of her, her eyes widening slightly as she leaned back, "That's…that's a threatening letter."

"Yes."

"Someone sent it _to _Diane _at her house_?" Alicia asked, slipping into the chair next to Kalinda, the folder slipping slightly from her grip.

"Mhm, no address," Kalinda replied, her eyes unwavering as they met Alicia's.

"Oh, god," Alicia said with a slight gasp, "Someone dropped it off _by hand_ to her home?"

"It's the most likely scenario, yes," Kalinda said as she turned to the screen again, "My contact managed to send me five, but I suspect there are more."

"Does it matter _how many_?" Alicia asked, incredulous. "Someone's been sending Diane threatening letters and she almost got killed after being attacked in her home—"

"Yes, but we don't know who did it," Kalinda said, a lot calmer. She'd had more practice in reigning in her feelings compared to post-suburban Alicia Florrick, but she could understand her feeling the way she did. Kalinda imagined Alicia had never been exposed to _this _kind of violence, at least not personally.

"What about Jeffrey Spellman—"

"As much as I don't dislike Diane," Kalinda cut in quietly, "I would bet my money that she's got few enemies around the city. It could be anyone."

"What are you saying?" Alicia asked slowly.

"I'm saying being a lawyer doesn't get you many pals and lunch buddies," Kalinda explained wryly. "She's a good lawyer, that's enough for anyone to want to kill her. Add the fact that she's got enough balls not to back down against _anyone..._well, it's not a good combination."

"But Jeffrey Spellman—"

"_If_ he sent her other lettersthen I'm going to need them to compare the language and nature to see if they're the same, but," she read through it again, pursing her lips slightly. "These letters don't seem to fit Jeffrey or his history with Diane."

"How do you know?"

"Listen," Kalinda said, scrolling down the image, "_I have warned you, time and time again not to disobey my wishes. I believe I expressed them clearly in my last letter. Please, stop trying to make me angry…it will not end well for you. You try my patience, Diane, I suggest you stop before I am left with no other choice but to take _drastic_ measures…"_

"So?" Alicia could honestly say she had yet to dabble _again_ into criminal law. "That still could be Spellman…he's obviously making a threat."

She knew about criminals, could maybe gauge how their minds work, but she wasn't about to do that today, go into their minds. She'd dealt with similar cases some fifteen years ago but aside from the all too peculiar Colin Sweeney, that was it for her. Things were complicated enough, she really didn't want to get into a madman's head again, at least not when it didn't truly concern her.

"This letter suggests someone who wants to control Diane," Kalinda explained. "Spellman, because of the fact that Diane lost his case, seeks to destroy her, make her suffer for the way he did." She pointed to the screen, "The writer of these five letters, on the other hand…" she paused, "Whoever wrote this is familiar to Diane or at least _thinks _he knows Diane, that somehow she was doing things that would deliberately anger him. _This _suggests someone who thinks he somehow has power over her."

"You're making it sound like it's something altogether different from Spellman," Alicia commented. "What do you think? Obsession…? Someone who wants her to _obey _his wishes?"

This was turning into a bad B-list movie, Alicia thought. The whole thing was getting a little crazy.

"Maybe," Kalinda said, moving on to another letter. "This one: _You've always been stubborn. You _never _listen. Who do you think you are? You think you have ALL the power? You'll pay, Diane, believe me, YOU WILL PAY for your insolence. Don't say I didn't warn you when I have been nothing but explicit with my wishes."_

"Sounds unstable. How long have these been coming in?" Alicia asked, looking a little paler than usual. "I mean, Kalinda, whoever wrote that seems highly capable of doing what was done to Diane. He basically wrote he _would_ do it."

Kalinda nodded, "I'm not sure how long these have been coming in but basing on these five, it's been going on for a few months now."

"Before or after Spellman's parole was granted?"

Kalinda scanned the images then looked at Alicia, "After."

Alicia nodded slowly, "_If _it was him sending those letters…he could have found out where she lived, Kalinda…these days with the internet, it's too easy."

Kalinda nodded, "Yeah. But where does Mark Jackson fit in all this? I checked his background. He has _no _ties to Spellman, not according to his history."

"They didn't share a cell, maybe? Or placed in the same facility at some point?" Alicia's mind flashed to where Peter had been placed, where the non-violent inmates could mingle for an hour a day in the yard while they were watched by guards. It wouldn't be impossible to imagine two inmates talking and forming some sort of connection inside prison.

"No," Kalinda shook her head, "It's not likely. Prior to being transferred a few times, in Illinois, Jackson was only ever in Stateville and Tamms while Spellman never left Cook County Jail until his parole was granted."

Alicia bit her bottom lip, "Well…maybe they met outside? I mean, they both obviously stayed in Chicago. What about work? Maybe they met working together?"

"Spellman works in a construction site but he hasn't showed up since yesterday," Kalinda said, pulling out her small notepad. "And Jackson's got a list of odd jobs, but none of them in construction or anything involved with construction."

"So what? We have Spellman, who promised he would kill Diane then we have another guy, Jackson, who has _no _visible connection with either Spellman _or _Diane, but ends up dead _right after _attacking her," Alicia shook her head. "What am I missing here?"

"Nothing," Kalinda hummed. "If they're not connected then…either Spellman decided to take a day off on the wrong day or there's more to this story than we're seeing."

-o0o-

There's a special place in hell for people like me…lazy and slow.

Sloth is one of the seven deadly sins, right? Cripes.

_**Note:**_

_**To Ellie:**_  
I'm not sure if you're back from vacation yet, but I sure do envy you! I'm stuck in school and I have mid-terms coming up already. Grrr.

Ohmygod, you've just labeled Kurt and De Luca a _bromance_. lmao! I didn't even look at it that way! House and Wilson do have one heck of a bromance going on, like Raj and Walowitz on The Big Bang Theory, but I am a little amused that my two guys can be categorized with them. Makes me feel kinda funny too. And lol, the Team Marlboro shippers are piling up in my story, right?

But me? Team Marlboro? I'll only admit to finding them cute together, nothing more. *grins*

Kurt having a dog named Tess playing with Justice? Cute picture. I'm still weighing in on who should really have Justice but…I'm leaning towards my original decision though. I won't say who so you'll have to read it for yourself…later. Oh, and as for Alicia reminiscing about Will…while I don't have a keen eye when it comes to Will and Alicia's…_thing_, I thought I'd add in some personal touches anyway. I thought I'd take advantage of Georgetown. Glad you liked it though!

And yes…the dead guy is NOT Spellman and he's still MIA. I was thinking of putting him in the story already by now, but I decided not to. I've been changing my mind about a lot of things lately, it seems. And yes, while Stern is already losing his marbles, I don't think he'd go after Diane that way…he's a lawyer, after all.

As for Daniel being Henry VIII…yes, he's a bit of a serial groom. Oh, well. If you're interested, I'm planning on telling more about the son soon. I've named him after a very good friend of mine at ECB…but anyway, his mom is going to be a character too, but don't worry, I'm not piling on too much original characters and pushing off the original ones from TGW. That would be suicide!

Hm…anyway, I hope you had fun on your vacation! This chapter took forever so I hope you'll forgive me. I really am sorry—I've been sidetracked by so many things! If you ever check in on the discussions on ECB, you'll see. I've been a bad, bad, bad monkey.

Oh, and I hope nobody minds Kalinda and Alicia playing Nancy Drew together. I like using original characters for my story…I like balance and all that.

And to everyone else—

Reviews make me happy so please, if you have time…you know what to do.


	8. Chapter 8: Undo It

**Blackout**  
by: raileht

**Summary:** It was over. The fight in her was almost completely out and she was nearing total exhaustion. She was about to die.**  
Disclaimer: **The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.**  
Rating: **T, to be safe  
**Spoilers/Timeline:** post-finale but I've omitted some facts and scenes to better fit the story and you'll figure out which ones I hadn't included along the way. But if you have questions, just ask.

**Warning: **Bad words and a lot of violence right from the start. Will be a somewhat dark story so people will be in pain—physical and emotional. Maybe not for the faint hearted.**  
Warning#2: **

**Chapter Title taken from:**  
Carrie Underwood, _Undo It_

-o0oo0oo0o-

**Chapter Eight: Undo It**

Walking back towards her office, Alicia looked up just in time to catch a glimpse of yet another delivery man with a display of flowers. So far, since the arrival of the first display, six more had followed, making this new one the seventh bouquet they'd received that day. Alicia was sure she knew who the flowers were for, or at least who the reason behind their coming was.

Shaking her head slightly, Alicia decided it was best if she focused more on her new case and make a dent on what she'd planned to do originally with the files she'd procured for Sheffrin-Marks. She'd originally been planning to draft a few legal memos for a possible lawsuit that was threatening the company. So far, there'd only been murmurs about a possible lawsuit, but Alicia wanted to make a head start, just in case.

After all, before Diane's new case had been passed on to her, she had nothing urgent for the day. She knew should the case turn out to be more than just defiant rumors, at least she already got a leg in the game. That would have put her in an advantage.

Slipping into her office, she found Kalinda seated at her desk, talking into her phone while furiously scribbling on her notepad. Cocking her head to the side, Alicia observed the woman, but didn't bother trying to sneak a glance at what she was writing. She'd seen Kalinda's handwriting and she knew it was useless trying to read it upside down.

It was hard enough to read right side up, upside down was _impossible_.

Not that Kalinda had a bad handwriting, of course, but she tended to cross block letters with script, depending on her mood. And with the way she was hurrying on, talking on the phone and writing while barely looking at the paper directly, it was safe to assume she wasn't in the best of moods to write legibly.

"Okay, I'll be there," Kalinda said then hung up, tucking her phone back into her pocket and made a grab for her notepad and pen.

"Got something?"

"Yeah," Kalinda said as she produced her car keys, "Time to hit the streets."

"Something on Diane?"

"Mhm," Kalinda said, heading out of the room.

"Wait, what happened?" Alicia asked, following her. "What'd you find out?"

Kalinda stopped, glanced behind her then turned back to Alicia, "Whoever attacked Diane tampered with some things on her house, but that's it. Nobody's sure if it was really Jackson or if Spellman had something to do with it."

"But Diane's awake, aren't they going to question her?" Alicia asked, "I mean, if she saw the attacker or anything?"

"They're on they're way, I'm sure," Kalinda said, having been tipped that Detective De Luca indeed knew what was happening with the case. "I've got my own investigation and I'll talk to Diane later, when I have something. Right now, questioning her will officially be the police department's job."

Alicia nodded, "Turf wars?"

"Trying to avoid one," Kalinda said, "I trust De Luca. He won't put Diane or anyone through anything for nothing."

"Well, you know him better so I'll have to agree, right?"

"Not really," Kalinda grinned. "I just know what I know, what you know is up to you." She waved, "I'll see you later. Good luck on your case."

"You too," Alicia said absently then took her seat when the woman was gone.

She flipped open the folder that contained a picture of a young teenager with dark blonde hair, green eyes and Cupid 's bow lips painted in deep rouge. Pretty nineteen-year-old Erica Howard could easily pass for sixteen if she took off the blood-red shade on her lips and heavily applied eyeliner. Alicia knew if her daughter ever put on makeup like that, even at that age, she would have had her concerns as well.

Or, as Zack would put it, she would most likely _freak out_. Or was it just _freak_? Alicia couldn't remember the distinction at the moment, not that it mattered. On parent terms that she was more likely to understand, Alicia would have a _fit_. She was glad she didn't have to worry about her ever precocious Grace.

Reading the file on the girl, it was stated that she'd never been arrested for anything until then. Her history suggested she was a straight A student who graduated at the top of her class in one of the most expensive private schools in the Chicago metro area. Erica was smart, well liked and was essentially like Grace in many ways. It wasn't until she turned nineteen, just a few weeks after, when she began to go through drastic changes.

Two weeks ago, she'd been given a warning for disorderly conduct with some friends, the same friends she'd gotten arrested with for picketing Wentworth & Lennox. Alicia knew there had to be a reason for that.

Flipping through the notes Diane had written up, it was clear that she'd also taken notice concerning the distinct change in the girl's behavior. Diane had listed possibilities, _drugs, peer pressure, financial/home troubles _but all those had been crossed out and Alicia took it as a sign that Diane had managed to rule those out as well.

Somehow, it surprised Alicia to find out Diane studied her client's personal lives and background, or if that wasn't the case, then it could mean she'd taken a particular interest on this girl. Either way, it showed a side of the woman Alicia had never thought to consider she had.

Curiosity bubbled up inside the associate but she brushed it off. If there was a reason Diane had been drawn to this girl and it turned out it was personal, she was staying out of it. Her responsible was to the client and that was it. There was no way she was stomping into Diane's personal life and world. That was dangerous territory.

Reading on, Alicia managed to come across something Diane had written and underlined three times: Carter Brennan, Jr. Alicia stopped, wondering why the name sounded familiar. She'd heard it somewhere before, but couldn't remember when or how. Frustrated , Alicia decided on the next best thing. Diane obviously knew the name as well, so what about the rest of the world? Alicia typed the name onto her computer then waited for the results to come.

It seemed with every case Alicia was learning more and more just how useful technology and the internet could be.

Everything came quickly, taking less than a few seconds as pages after pages of results came, showing her just how she knew the name. Carter Brennan Jr. had been the teenage football player who'd been killed in a hit and run three years ago. Alicia remembered, she'd heard it from the news and even Peter back then.

Typing her client's name and the boy's name, Alicia wasn't disappointed with the results when articles once again came, this time Erica Howard's name highlighted as well.

Erica had been Carter's girlfriend, both of them among the brightest students of their school. Erica was in cheerleading, debate club and was also class president of her batch for three years straight. Carter had been in the varsity football team, straight A student and in the debate club. They'd been a couple for five years before his death.

Alicia continued to read and found a section of an article that was centered on Erica Howard. She quirked an eyebrow, wondering if perhaps there _was_ a reason why Diane took the case after all, seeing as who Erica Howard was, or rather, who her father was.

Reaching for her phone, Alicia checked in with Kevin, who'd been Diane's last temporary assistant when Annie had been sick. "Is this Kevin? This is Alicia Florrick and I was wondering if you could tell me if Diane had anything scheduled with a client under the name Howard? I've just taken over the case…"

She was sure there had to be a schedule already set for the Howards.

-o0o-

"Well, this is cheerful…"

Daniel pushed himself off the wall and headed towards his sister and taking his seat next to her as he smiled at Will. The room had gone quiet after Diane acknowledged Will's presence and the twin could easily guess that things between them hadn't gotten better since their last conversation over the phone.

He could understand, the strain in trying to keep the firm had to be getting to them, but he also knew, thanks to Dr. Nolan, that Will had been the one to find Diane. She didn't know it yet, but Daniel did. He was irked that with the things Diane had said about her younger partner, but he couldn't suppress the gratitude he felt for saving his sister.

Diane lived alone, which worried Daniel to no end _but_ she also lived out in the middle of nowhere, which bothered him so he could vividly imagine how ugly things could have gotten had Will not come to her house. Who knew how long it would have taken for anyone else to find her had he not come? The endless frightening possibilities were enough to shake him to the core.

Which was partly the reason why Daniel had decided to stay because his sister needed someone with her, especially now. She would hate it, but he'd make her learn to live with it. It was his responsibility and he didn't want anything else to happen to her. It was bad enough something like this happened, he wasn't about to let another slip up occur.

"Sister dear, your friend Will and I were just chatting about your failing to inform him about my little spawn," he said in a conversational tone as he remained standing next to her bed, one hand propped by the headboard while the other one tucked itself into his pocket, facing Will and Annie. "Which surprised me since he's so _attached _to you, I originally imagined you'd be bragging left and right about your darling Nicholas."

Diane gave him a frown, "I've asked you time and time again _not _to call him that."

"And once again, I neglected to listen," Daniel said with a shrug. "So, how does Will not know about Nicholas, Danni?" He looked at Will, "She's very proud of him, you know. He's going to Yale and is just about to finish his last year of law school."

"Yale?" Will echoed, "Diane went to Yale, right?"

"She did," he replied, "And if it's not obvious yet, that's the reason why Nick chose that school, the little imp. Dare he snub his father's alma mater, but what can one do? In his eyes, his darling aunt can do no wrong."

"Daniel," Diane said in a warning tone, "I may be confined to a bed, but don't you think for one second I won't get up and beat you senseless if I have to."

Daniel grinned, "I see you're feeling better."

"I'm fine," she replied then glared when he raised an eyebrow at her, "Shut up."

"Oh, so eloquent," he chuckled, "Will, is this how my sister charms her jury? Because I heard she's one hell of a lawyer."

"Nah," Will grinned, "She's got tricks up her sleeve I'm guessing you've never even seen. There's a reason why she's the top litigator in Chicago, you know."

"Oh?" Daniel turned to his sister, "He thinks you've got tricks I haven't seen? I am wounded, darling sister, this is telling how much you _don't _talk about me."

"You'll get over it," she replied with a slight roll of her eyes. "And I can hear you _giggling _Will Gardner. Don't think I won't do to you what I'm willing to do to my brother."

Her head hadn't been turned in his direction, but it did the job anyway, wiping the grin off his face as he straightened up. If Daniel's goal was to lighten the mood, he'd done it perfectly and yet, Will couldn't help but feel the tightening in his throat when Diane spoke to him. She had a lot to be angry with him, he'd expected to be thrown out. He should have known better.

Diane had spoken to him, but it still made him feel anxious. He had yet to apologize and she wasn't looking in his direction so he wasn't sure if he was out of the woods yet. God only knew what could be going on in her head and he wasn't even going to dare guess. He was prepared to grovel, if needed though he was sure he needed a lot of punishing after their last conversation. She had every reason to rake him over the coals.

"Annie," Diane suddenly said, snapping everyone's attention on the younger woman.

Will turned and spotted Annie leaning against the wall, rubbing her left eye with a knuckle. She looked exhausted and extremely drowsy. He remembered he'd dragged her out of bed which made him a new wave of guilt. He was really batting a thousand lately.

"Yes, Miss Lockhart?" she looked tired, but her voice betrayed none of what she must've been feeling already. She _sounded _alert and ready for anything. How was that for dedication?

"Exactly how long have you been awake?" Diane asked, her eyes catching Will's who ducked his head guiltily. That was all the answer she needed.

"Uhm, a while," Annie replied, standing straighter and pushing off the wall.

"Define a while."

"Uhm…" Annie glanced at Will, knowing this might start yet another argument between the two partners. Lately, a sneeze could set them both off. In her boss' state, Annie didn't want that today, not when she still had to recuperate.

"Never mind," Diane waved a hand dismissively. "I am going to give you a set of instructions and from here on out, you are _not _allowed to say no _or _refuse, do you understand?"

Annie shifted uneasily from one foot to another. Even laid up in a hospital bed and injured, Diane could still very well be intimidating, especially when she spoke that way with that tone of voice. That was her _courtroom _voice, the one that demanded attention, front line and center.

"Annie?"

"Yes, Miss Lockhart."

The corner's of her mouth curled up, "Okay. Listen carefully." She paused, "You are going to take the car my brother predictably overpaid for and you're going to tell the driver where you live. He will drop you off then you _will _wash up, go to bed, get enough sleep and you are _not _allowed in this room for at least twelve hours, do you hear me?"

"But—"

"Uh, uh, uh," Diane shook her head, "Remember what I said."

"Yes, Miss Lockhart, but—"

"_Annie."_

There was that tone again and it left Annie with no other choice but to nod meekly.

"Good," Diane smiled, "Next, you are _not _allowed to check in the office. I trust Kevin, he knows what he's doing and he will be the one I will call for the next twelve hours if I have to and he will be in charge of anything related to me or my work, do you understand?"

"Yes, but—"

"You will _not _answer your cell phone," Diane continued. "And you _will _get some rest because, honestly, you look worse than I feel, but that could be the drugs talking."

"Miss Lockhart—"

Daniel chuckled, "You're wasting your breath, dear. The queen has spoken. Come on." He walked towards her with a smile, "I'll walk you down to the car."

"I can take a cab—"

"Annie, don't make me get off this bed," Diane growled.

"Okay, okay," the assistant said, bolting for the door while Daniel laughed behind her. "Thank you, Miss Lockhart, I'll see you—"

"Twelve hours, Clawson, do you hear me?"

"Yes, Miss Lockhart."

"Good night, Annie."

"Good morning, Miss Lockhart."

Daniel waved to his sister before disappearing, leaving the room in silence again as Diane let out a breath, tucking a few strands of hair behind one ear while Will tried not to let on how awkward he was feeling now that they were alone. The room was cool, comfortable enough but somehow, he felt himself begin to perspire slightly.

"Diane…"

"Will…"

They'd spoke and stopped at the same time, their eyes meeting before they looked away the moment it happened. It was weird, the whole situation. They'd never felt this awkward in each other's presence before. Will hated it. Using the old cliché, he could literally cut the tension with a knife. He felt like an idiot.

"I…you go ahead," he said, tucking his hands in his pocket since he couldn't pull out his handkerchief to dry his suddenly moist hands. He'd settle for his old school tactics with his pockets. He hadn't done this trick since high school.

"No," Diane shook her head slightly, "You…go first."

"No—"

"Will."

She gave him a look that said he should really think twice before saying no to this. He nodded, slightly, trying to stand just a little bit taller when he felt _so _small. His eyes, for some reason, suddenly found the ground so riveting, they couldn't look at anything else.

"I…I was the one who woke up Annie," he said quietly. "I should have known she needed rest."

She looked at him, one corner of her mouth lifting, "That's all right. You wouldn't have been able to convince her anyway. She'd have stayed, regardless of what you tell her."

"That's…should I feel insulted somehow?" he asked with a slight grin, forgetting for a moment that she should be hating him.

"No," she replied. "She just listens to me more. I assume it's because I'm her boss."

"Well, technically, I'm her boss too."

"No," Diane said simply. "She works for me, Kate works for you. Are we having territorial issues again, Will? Do I have to draw a chalk line in the office when I get back?"

She was teasing him, that was a good sign, "No…"

"Good," she said then slowly, she smiled.

"Diane, I…" he began, walking towards the bed. "This is hard for me to say."

"Then don't say it," she shrugged, looking away for a moment then met his eyes again.

Will nodded slightly, "I have to."

"Okay, then," she thought for a moment. "Say it quick like you're ripping off a band aid."

This was a lot harder than ripping off a band aid, he was sure, but the fact that she was helping him through was something. It made him feel like shit. Why wasn't she angry? He wished she'd just show her anger because _that _he could deal with. This passive and accepting Diane was an altogether different matter he wasn't used to encountering.

"Last night I said some things—"

"_We _said some things," she cut in carefully, "Both of us, Will. We said some things."

He nodded, "And I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of it, I was…angry. Not at you, but—"

"You were angry at me," she nodded. "Let's not kid ourselves, okay? I did something you didn't like, you got mad. Plain and simple. No need to launch an inquisition over this." She gestured with her hand slightly, "We fight all the time."

"But last night, I—"

"We were both angry and—"

"Damn it, Diane, will you just let me apologize?" he said though he hadn't meant to. He saw the look of surprise on her face and he was sure he had a deer in the headlights look on his as well. Why had he just said that? He _was _trying to apologize, for god's sake.

"I'm sorry, I didn't…" he stopped, rubbing the back of his neck before looking at her again. She still hadn't said a thing, propped up against a few pillows and looking at him expectantly now though the look of surprise still hadn't left her face.

With the sunlight streaming through the windows, he could clearly see the mark on her face and he almost cringed. The bruise had turned into a light shade of dark purple, standing out quite clearly against her pale skin in the most grotesque fashion and he could only imagine how that must have hurt and _how _it had gotten there. Did her attacker hit her or did it occur during some sort of collision?

Either way, it made Will angry. How could anyone hurt Diane like that? That bruise wasn't the worst of it, he was sure, but it was the most visible at the moment. It made Will's blood boil.

"Will?"

He stopped, mouth partially open as he snapped his attention back to her, "Uh, yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

It was ironic, her asking him that when she was the one in the hospital, having gone through something so traumatic. He almost began to laugh, not the humorous laugh one would get from really good jokes, but rather that hysterical type of laugh some people are subjected to doing when they don't have a clue on how or when to react. Nothing about the situation was funny, but it was insane in so many ways.

And with the way Diane was acting, being damnably understanding and not-hostile, he was feeling more and more like an ass with each moment that passed.

"I'm fine," he said, shaking his head slightly. "I should be asking you that."

"Please, _don't_," she rolled her eyes. "My brother has been asking me and so has Annie and…" she shook her head, "It annoys me."

He smiled, "I can imagine it does." He breathed in deeply, "I just wanted to say I'm sorry, for what happened last night. The things I said…they were uncalled for and I got too personal, I'm sorry, Diane."

She didn't say anything, her eyes staying on him unwaveringly. Her fingers had grown still, laced together in front of her as she sat silently. It made Will nervous, but he didn't want to rush her. If she was thinking about whether to accept his apology or not, that was up to her.

When she finally spoke however, it surprised Will, even though he'd somewhat expected it and felt he deserved it, "No."

"What?" he managed to choke out.

"No."

"No as in I—"

"No as in I _don't _accept your apology," Diane said, her eyes wide as she raised both her eyebrows. "No."

Will stopped, staring at her for a moment before nodding slowly, "Okay, I…I'll just…" he turned towards the door, ready to leave when she spoke again.

"I don't accept your apology because it's not warranted, Will."

He stopped, turning towards her with his mouth slightly agape, "It was. I was out of line. I'm sorry, I really am, Diane. Honestly. I don't know why I even said those things. I'm just…" he let out a breath, "I'd understand if you don't ever want to see or speak to me again."

"Don't be hysterical," she scoffed slightly, her bottom lip jutting out into a slight frown. "We fight all the time, we settle misunderstandings and we get over it."

"I know, but—"

"We said things, we've said things before and there were times when they were worst, compared to last night," she continued, ignoring his attempts to protest. "_This_ is only different for you because of…what happened," she gestured to herself. "And I don't accept your apology if that's the only reason why you're sorry. It's…it's stupid because _this _isn't your fault, do you understand that, Will?"

"I do, but—"

"It's _not_ your fault," she said again, firmer this time. "We fought, we were angry but _you _did _not _do this to me."

"I just…" he swallowed, grabbing the bridge of his nose and pinched it as he closed his eyes. "I can't…"

"I don't—" Diane began, only to stop when someone began to knock on the door.

Will wasted no time in taking whatever out was offered to him, heading towards the door with a slight jump, thankful for the disruption of their conversation. He pulled it open, revealing a grinning Daniel holding a beautiful bouquet of wild flowers.

Diane gave him a look, "Will, please…"

"It's fine," he said, shaking his head as he held up a hand slightly, looking at her for a moment before turning away. "It's nothing, Diane." He placed a practiced smile on his face, "Nice flowers, Daniel. Sucking up?"

"Yes. My butler duties have begun," Daniel said, oblivious to the somber mood of the two as he entered the room with a flamboyant wave, heading towards his sister's bed and planting an obnoxiously loud kiss on top of her head. "Flowers for my darling sister from—hey look, I'm committing a felony!"

He waved the envelope that came with the flowers then opened it dramatically, "Oh! That feels _good_. I'm just born to be bad."

"Don't be an idiot," Diane said, holding her hand out for the note. "And yes, you did just commit a felony. How manly you must feel."

"Oh, I do, do, do," Daniel said, flipping open the note then read, "Not that that's important at the moment because according to the delivery man, they're from Chief Justice Adler. To Diane—"

"What?" Diane swiped the card from her brother's hand.

"Thief," he muttered.

"To Diane, feel better. Best, Barbara," she read aloud, her eyes meeting Will's with a raised eyebrow. "Look, it's from _Barbara._"

"Huh," Will managed to grin, "I don't think I've ever heard anyone refer to the Chief as _Barbara._"

"Same here," she replied.

"Do we like her?" Daniel asked, bottom lip jutting out slightly, "I mean, she did drop you like a hot potato. You could have been one of her judges."

"It doesn't matter," Diane said, waving him off with the card. "The fact that she _took _this step is a sign enough," she looked at Will. "Looks like I'm back in the playground."

"With the cool kids," Will commented, "At least something good came out of this."

Diane nodded, "Yes."

"Oh, and wait," Daniel headed towards back to the door, opened it then called, "Please, come right in." He glanced at Will, "I heard about the little commotion outside, Will and yes, their IDs have been checked and verified."

Diane looked at Will, "What's he talking about?"

"A reporter tried to get in by pretending to be a delivery man," Will explained as the three men came in, each with an arrangement of different flowers, placing them on the table, by the window and next to Diane's bed.

"What?" Diane asked, eyes wide as she sat up straighter.

"I took care of it," Will soothed, having expected she'd be agitated by the news. "They won't be coming in. I'm working with the Chicago Police Department on this one."

"Thank you," Diane smiled a little. "Which station?"

"Local paper, new one," Will said nonchalantly. "Just a bunch of college drop outs trying to start something—Daily Chronicle."

"What are you planning to do to them?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow. She knew him too well.

"Nothing," he shrugged. "I'll just remind them that they're in the real world now where they won't be able to pull that sort of crap on anyone, especially not on a lawyer with a _big_ law firm."

"And the Chicago Police backing him?" Diane retorted smartly. "Just don't get in trouble, Will."

"I won't," he promised though he was sure she could see the mischievous smile he was trying to hide. This was a game for him and he was going to have some fun with those kids.

"Oh, look, more cards," Daniel made a mad dash for each card, swiping them with a maniacal laugh as he gave his sister an evil grin while she thanked them.

"Give me those," she commanded imperiously.

"No, I want to see who're willing to pretend to play nice while my darling sister is in the hospital," Daniel declared. "So many pretentious twits, so little time…Will, do you know a Charlie Nederland?"

"Nederland?" Will thought for a moment, "Partner from…Duns & Orwell?"

"Male?"

"Uh, yes."

"And _gay_—he consulted with me on a case a few months ago," Diane pointed out. "Dan, I am not kidding around. Give me those."

"No, this is fun," he said gleefully. "This is where the pretentious get out to show just how phony they are. Looks like _Barbara _and Nerd-erland were first, who's next?"

Just then, Will's phone began to ring. He looked up at Diane, glancing at the screen, "It's Kalinda…might be important."

"She's working on a case?" she asked while keeping an eye on her brother.

"Yeah, she's been busy all morning," Will answered with a slight shrug.

He couldn't very well tell her _she _was Kalinda's current focus and he wasn't going to until he absolutely had to. He knew there was a big possibility of getting her reacting badly to that. Diane and her privacy, it was a whole universe on its own, one Will was currently not willing to explore at the moment. Skating on thin ice was a bitch.

"Sure," Diane nodded, grabbing the set of notes from her brother then smacked his hand loudly, making him howl like a child just as Will closed the door behind him.

"Mean."

"Thank you," she smiled sweetly, pulling out the notes.

Daniel watched her for a moment, glancing behind him to make sure they were alone before settling on the bed, sitting next to her as he faced her, "You should be nicer to him."

"Pardon me?" she looked up with a perfectly arched eyebrow raised.

"Your friend Will," her brother shrugged, "You should be nicer to him."

"I'm sorry?" Diane said, the hand that was holding the note falling onto her lap. "This coming from the man who said he'd have him beaten up by some thugs in our last conversation."

"Well, he deserved it that time," Daniel said, looking innocent. "But not today, all right?"

"Why not today?" she challenged, intrigued as to what might have changed his mind during the times when she wasn't conscious.

Daniel was never the type to go against her, especially in matters like this, but it seemed he'd found a reason to tolerate Will, which surprised her. She'd often thought it would be impossible. Daniel certainly hadn't found reason to like Jonas Stern and made a point to let everyone know it.

"Because…" Daniel rolled his eyes. "Because, because, because…"

"Well, that's mature," she snarked. "Where's your yellow brick road, Dorothy?"

Daniel groaned, "Danni, I'm just saying, you could be less…formal with the guy. He's earned it."

"Okay, _now _I know I am definitely missing something," she muttered. "Dan, I am tired and I am drugged, please, just tell me what the hell I'm missing here."

He sighed, nodding slowly, "Okay. Fine…he found you."

"What?"

"Will went to your house," Daniel explained. "He found you in your kitchen, you were unconscious and he called for help."

"_What?"_

"I spoke briefly with Dr. Nolan," Daniel confessed. "He was there from the moment they brought you in. Will didn't leave you until he was absolutely sure you were well taken care of."

"Will?"

"Yes," Daniel nodded. "Your friend Will."

Diane stared at her brother, mouth agape.

-o0o-

As Kurt McVeigh headed to his pickup, he could feel the eyes of Tony De Luca burning into the back of his head. After getting kicked out of the morgue and being torn a new one for not shutting his mouth as he'd been instructed to, the old detective had easily demanded he get to his into his own vehicle and follow as he headed out.

He had a vague idea of where De Luca was headed and he was tempted not to follow and just head off by himself, but he'd seen the Italian go red at the cheeks and neck, saw his eyes bulge with the sudden release of frustration as he tore into him.

Kurt wasn't a coward—he'd faced some intimidating characters in the past, but even he knew the veteran enough to know that when his features morphed into something _that _unattractive, he knew he better follow lest be faced with either the barrel of a Smith & Wesson .38 Special or a five by ten cell.

Either way, not following demands was out of the question for him.

Yes, a grown man like him was following someone he had no blood relation to whatsoever. The last time Kurt had followed instructions like this, it had been his mother issuing them. It would have been a _little _funny if it wasn't happening to him.

His phone rang and glancing at the screen, Kurt rolled his eyes. This was getting old, "What?"

"I'm watching you, McVeigh so don't think about giving me the slip," De Luca bellowed. "I'll pick your ass up before you can even get past state lines, get me?"

"Yeah," Kurt grunted. "I'm right behind you."

"Yeah, yeah," De Luca said then hung up. Clearly, he was still more than a little annoyed of his breaking the rules he'd lain out before going into to see the Medical Examiner.

Frowning and feeling a little more than stupid, Kurt followed as soon as De Luca's unmarked police car slipped out of the garage, the sunlight easily bouncing off the vehicle, the black paint glinting against the sun. Letting out a slight grumble, Kurt drove on, following as De Luca headed towards where he hadn't originally intended to go.

Kurt decided maybe it was better if he investigated on his own. He was beginning to regret going to De Luca. For a man who didn't listen to idle gossip, he knew too damned much.

Settling back against his seat, Kurt drove along but couldn't help the image of Mark Jackson coming into his mind. The man was dead, his memory flashing back to his corpse, but the ballistics expert had no trouble imagining him alive. The guy looked like he was trouble and anyone who would have caught sight of him walking around would know it. He was tall, taller than Kurt with a bigger build that looked like it belonged to a linebacker.

His fingers gripped the wheel, trying hard _not _to imagine that man overpowering Diane. She'd fought him off, obviously and she managed to get a few good hits. But he'd seen Jackson, not Diane. Seeing the guy almost made him not want to see her altogether if only to avoid seeing what damage the bastard inflicted on her.

Kurt wasn't sure what he'd do, if he saw her. There was no way she could have gotten out scathe free. The news had gone as far as to declare her dead, how bad had it gotten for them to reach that conclusion?

Diane was tall, but she was also slender and though not necessarily frail, but up against Jackson? Kurt was pretty sure the guy could have crushed her. Either she'd been lucky or he wasn't giving her enough credit. Still, it didn't change the fact that Kurt _knew _she'd been hurt terribly.

Kurt's fingers tightened impossibly on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white though he didn't notice any of that, nor did he notice the numbing that was slowly taking place. He felt something for the woman and he barely knew her. Their last conversation, if one could even call it that, should have ended whatever they had, and yet here he was, in the city where he hated to be, in the middle of what had to be a hailstorm, thinking about nothing but her.

Maybe it was the fact that she got hurt, maybe it was the fact that the moment he'd heard she was gone he'd felt his heart stop for a moment, maybe it was because she was beautiful or she laughed at every stupid joke he had. Who knew? All he was sure of was, he was there and somehow, even as he tried to stay away, he couldn't help but wish he could be with her.

He didn't want to see her, yet he wanted to be there for her, if only to see she really was still alive, that everything had been a mistake. He didn't want to see what was _done_ to her, he'd seen enough blood and death to imagine the worst, but he wanted to be _with _her.

Uncurling one hand from the wheel, Kurt leaned his elbow against his window, hand cradling his head as he drove. That woman was going to be his ruin.

He was sure of it.

-o0o-

"I'm checking on some leads, but I have something."

Will leaned against the wall of the hospital, occupying the same spot he'd left when he'd been deciding whether or not it was a good idea to see Diane or not. He could feel the glances the two uniforms were shooting him, but he chose to ignore them, "Hit me."

"Someone was sending Diane threatening letters."

"_What?"_

"It's been going on for a few months and they were all delivered to her house at the Lake," Kalinda responded. "The police aren't sure who sent them and I managed to get a few copies, but so far, I have nothing."

"Could it be Spellman?"

"No, but they found a body," Kalinda added. "A man named Mark Jackson was picked up this morning, one bullet through the head, but there are signs pointing that he may have been the one who attacked Diane."

"Signs like what?"

Kalinda explained how the team processing the DNA taken from Diane and the samples from the body the coroner had run through the database hit a match together and Will found himself nodding along. "They're pretty sure it's him."

"But who is he? What reason could he have for attacking Diane?" Will asked, "Did he send her those letters?"

"That's what we're all trying to figure out."

"How long have the letters been coming?" Will asked, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back, feeling the coldness of the wall seep into the back of his head.

He felt a migraine coming as he suppressed the urge to go back into Diane's room and demand to know _everything._ She'd been keeping so much lately if she told him she knew where the Lindbergh baby was, he'd probably believe her.

"A few months now," Kalinda paused.

"Are you kidding me?"

"No. Is she awake?"

"Yes. Damn it, Kalinda, _months?_"

"Is she coherent? Has she talked to anyone?" she paused, "And yes, _months_."

"There was a Detective Clancy here, but I only saw him talking to Annie," Will said, blinking a few times as he stared up the white ceiling. "Diane seems to be doing fine…more than fine, actually. I'm…I don't know how that's possible. God, how the hell could she keep this from me?"

"As long as she's coping, why question it?" Kalinda remarked, not surprised at how Diane was reacting to everything. "She won't show if she's cracking, Will. You know her better than that."

"Yeah," he agreed. "But you should see her…it's like _nothing _happened."

"It's Diane, what can you expect?" she replied. "It's either it hasn't sunk in yet _or _she's a lot tougher than you thought."

"I know that, but…" he grunted. "I don't know, I expected different."

"Different like how?"

"Like she'd be hating the sight of me now."

"That's the guilt talking," he could imagine her smirking at him. "Have you talked?"

"Not really, a little."

"Is she angry?"

"She said she's not, she's acting like she's not, but…" he groaned. "She has to be."

"No, you _think _she has to be because you feel like you need to be punished," Kalinda pointed out, "She's giving you an out, isn't she?"

It was amazing how observant the woman could be, Will reveled as he answered reluctantly, "Yes. She said it wasn't my fault."

Will was sure if he ever pursued a relationship with Kalinda, it would be impossible to even think about cheating or doing anything stupid. The woman was like a damn hawk. Will could only assume how many men could truly withstand being with such an intense woman. It was almost impossible trying to imagine anyone who would be able to keep up with her.

Hell, it was hard enough to imagine _anyone _catching Kalinda's interest long enough to attract her. He was always under the impression she found very few people interesting enough for her personal attention.

"Because it isn't, Will, and she knows it," she advised, "She's giving you an out, take it. It's her way of calling a truce. Don't screw it up by arguing with her."

"What exactly are you saying?" he asked, instantly defensive.

"I'm saying the last thing she needs is to fight with you again," she replied. "I know you're pissed about the things she's been keeping from you, but keep in mind the past few months haven't really left any room for catching up between the two of you."

"If you're trying to guilt me—"

"I'm not," she interjected dryly. "I'm just saying you're going to want to pick a fight with her, _don't_. It'll seem right in your head, but you know it really isn't."

"What does that even mean?" he groused.

"It means forcing her to get mad at you will not alleviate your guilt," she said and he could practically hear her rolling her eyes. "You can't make her punish you if she doesn't want or even see reason to."

He rolled his eyes, ever petulant and unwilling to accept her words of wisdom, "Anybody ever tell you you can give Dr. Phil a run for his money?"

She wouldn't take his disagreeing so he was willing to take the next best thing: be a smartass.

"Anybody ever tell you you have one hell of a temper?" she retorted smoothly. "Don't pick a fight with Diane like you're trying to do with me now. It's pointless and stupid."

"Easier said than done," he muttered. "She doesn't exactly make it easy."

She didn't respond immediately and he could swear he could actually _hear _her brain working, "Look, you know what? Pick a fight with her, see what happens," Kalinda said, sounding a little ruffled. "Just don't say I didn't warn you."

"Kalinda—"

"Detective De Luca is on his way there, he's going to question Diane about last night," she cut him off. "You're a lawyer, do some lawyering while I do my job."

"Yeah, okay," he nodded. "Look, Kalinda—"

"I'll keep you posted. Let me know when you've finally burned bridges with your partner."

And with that, she hung up, leaving Will to stare at his phone. He was tempted to start smacking himself with the damned thing, but he knew there was a psych ward three floors up. He was sure people wouldn't think it normal for a grown man to be slapping himself with a mobile phone.

He was already regretting his reaction to her trying to help him see logic, but he couldn't undo any of it, not at the moment so he settled for reviewing everything Kalinda had laid out in front of him and, glancing surreptitiously at the empty hall he was standing in, he began to dial a different number, hoping against hope this one phone call would do him good.

The moment the other line connected and began to ring, he turned and walked towards the empty dead-end are of the hall, preferring the privacy the fire exit provided knowing it was more likely to be empty than not. He hoped Diane wouldn't grow suspicious of his absence.

With one hand in his pocket, he took a fortifying breath when the other line finally got picked up.

"Hey. It's me."

-o0o-

"Do I have to be here?"

De Luca shook his head, punching the button on the elevator for their designated floor and waited until the doors were closed before turning towards his companion. "Yes, you do. And you can even see the lady, but only _after _I finish questioning her. After that, you can do whatever the hell you want—talk to her, don't talk to her, but you are _not _going anywhere, do you hear me?"

"That kind of sounds confusing," Kurt said dryly, "I can do whatever I want but I can't go anywhere so that's not really doing whatever I want, isn't it?"

"Do you wanna get shot today, McVeigh?"

"I don't have to be here, I don't _want _to be here," Kurt said, glancing just in time to see they were nearly there. "She wouldn't want to see me."

"Well, I'd rather watch you get thrown out of her room than have you screwing up my case while you sniff around," De Luca snapped. "Look, McVeigh, I get that you want to help, but you saw the guy—Jackson and you saw the rest of the things we have, things you aren't even supposed to know considering that you're a civilian, but…"

"What?" the loud ding of the elevator alerted them both that they were there and they both stepped off, avoiding standing in the way of a nurse carrying a small tray.

De Luca shook his head, placing a hand onto his friend's shoulder to stop him, leading him to a corner for some semblance of privacy. A few feet away, he nodded hello at the two uniforms then motioned for them to stay away.

"I know you're good, all right?" they'd worked together enough times in the past for him to know that for sure. "And yeah, if you want to be a stubborn ass, you'd probably figure out this whole thing by yourself, but you and I both know you can't."

"Why not?" Kurt shook his head, "If I can help figure this out faster, shouldn't I?"

"No," De Luca raised a hand. "I say this as a friend, Kurt. You can _try _to help her through the case, but we both know that's going to take you walking a _fine _line that might end up having all _our _actions and decisions being questioned." He clenched his fist, "And if this turns out into something _big_, then we can't have that. We can't jeopardize the case like this. Do you hear me?"

"I do," Kurt nodded, "But what do you want me to do?"

"Whatever you want, as long as it doesn't end up with you and me being hanged," De Luca shrugged. "You know as well as I do, as much as you care or _don't care _for this woman, you're in a position where you're in danger of hurting her more than you're capable of helping her."

Kurt shook his head, looking away as he tried to ignore the voices in his head telling him that his friend was right, that he should listen. He was stubborn, that much was true.

"I know you don't want to hurt her," De Luca said quietly, "And I get it, man. I do, but maybe you should think about this…what'll hurt this woman more? You staying away _or _coming by to see if she's okay and let her know you still care no matter what happened in the past?"

"She's not like that," he mumbled.

De Luca smirked, "Every woman's like that."

"She's different."

"So I've heard," the detective nodded. "Look, I'm wasting time holding you hand here, all right? I'm burning daylight baby sitting your old ass when I've got a woman to question."

"Tony—"

"I'll go easy on her," De Luca teased with a grin.

Kurt shook his head, "Nah. She'll kick your ass if you do."

"Speaking from experience?" the older man raised an eyebrow then laughed when the other one didn't answer. "Damn, no wonder you don't wanna see her, you wuss."

"Shut up."

"Oh, hit a nerve, did I? We'll talk about that later, right now I'm going in, but you better be here when I get out," De Luca warned, "I won't tell her you're here. I dragged your ass all the way here. I'm done so the rest is up to you, you stubborn old idiot."

"Stop calling me an idiot," he growled. "I'll be here."

"Yeah, yeah," De Luca grumbled, looking serious now as he began to walk towards the room where Diane Lockhart was admitted. "Go read some Cosmo or somethin', god knows you still got a lot to learn about women. Maybe those'll help. Jeez."

Kurt shook his head, seating himself in the waiting area, eyeing the magazine De Luca had been talking about. He read the headlines on the cover, shuddered then looked away. There were some things that were written in them that _men _did not need _or want_ to know.

God, women were insane. Why spread out secrets like that? Too much information. He wasn't a prude or anything, but those magazines were just disturbing sometimes. Kurt shook his head, wondering what he was going to do while waiting. No way was he touching the girly crap.

If he knew De Luca any better, the old bastard was going to drag it out until hell froze over, just to have his share of fun, making him wait outside like that.

"Excuse me, sir, can I help you?"

Kurt looked up to see a nurse standing not too far from where he was sitting. She was carrying a small tray full of empty tiny cups and a needle and she stood with a curious look on her face.

"No, thank you," he answered politely. "I'm here for…the patient at 316, but she's still with someone so I'll just wait."

"You're here for Miss Lockhart?" the nurse glanced at the uniform not too far away.

"Yeah," Kurt pretended not to notice. Will must've done one hell of a job threatening the hospital for privacy since it was clear the nurses were a little jittery with visitors.

"And your name would be?"

"McVeigh," he answered, still polite. He didn't mind, she was doing her job which was a good thing. He couldn't fault anyone for that. "Kurt McVeigh."

The nurse nodded, smiling slightly, "Oh, yes. All right. Mr. Gardner gave us your name, Mr. McVeigh, said you were a good friend of Miss Lockhart's."

"Uh, yeah," he glanced away as he said that, uncomfortable though he tried not to let it show.

"Well, you can go in, if you'd like, I'm sure—"

"No, I'll wait," Kurt said. "She's still with answering a few questions for…I can wait."

"Oh, of course," she nodded, "Well, if you need anything, you can let us know."

"Thank you," he nodded, tempted to ask if there was anything to read, but his eyes caught the other things on the table aside from the one he'd spotted earlier. The others were magazines as well, with beautiful young women on the covers ranging from 'Vogue' to 'Glamour' to 'Seventeen'. He was sure he didn't want to look at what else they might have.

She smiled, gave him a slight nod then walked away, bringing the tray with her as she disappeared into the nurse's station.

Glancing around, something caught Kurt's eye in the far end of the hall. Dressed in a suit, the same one he'd seen him in only hours ago, was Will Gardner, looking like he was agitated as he spoke into his cell phone. Curious, Kurt observed him, wondering who he could be talking to with his hand curled into a fist as he paced back and forth, retracing the same route that consisted one end of the wall to another.

"Excuse me," someone's voice diverted Kurt's attention, his eyes snapping towards the tall man at the counter, his back facing him as he spoke to a nurse. "I was wondering if you had any ice. My sister was wondering if she could have some."

"Of course, Mr. Lockhart. If you could just wait a moment…"

The last name made Kurt's eyebrows shoot up. Diane had a brother? He hadn't known that and chances were, if she hadn't told him about her sibling, she hadn't told the other about him as well. He wasn't surprised. Half the time, Diane couldn't even remind herself that she'd been with Kurt McVeigh, Republican gun expert—_plus_ a few other adjectives and descriptions that would further list why he was the last person anyone would expect her to be with.

"Thank you."

Kurt realized he had a choice, one: walk away now and never come back or two: pretend he didn't know who the man was—which was essentially true—and mind his own business. Impulsively grabbing a magazine from the table, he flipped it open, pretending to read to make sure he wouldn't be noticed and tuned the other man out.

He kept the charade up without even glancing at the man and he was so sure he'd gotten away with it when—

"Well, I'm more of a Vogue man, but I could read Glamour too."

Kurt looked up, seeing the man with a cup, grinning slightly.

"Hi, I'm Dan Lockhart," he held out a hand, his forearm bare through the messily rolled up sleeves though it left Kurt enough to observe the man shared the same long fingers and slim arms like Diane had. Remembering he was with the woman's brother, he banished any and all thoughts of her as he could. He never dealt with 'big brother' types well.

Kurt stood up, accepting the offered hand and noticing easily he was a little taller than him. Clearly, height advantage ran in the family. The gods of genetics obviously favored the Lockhart children. Diane was beautiful and her brother was a handsome man. Kurt wondered if there were _more _of them out there.

"The nurse told me you're here to visit my sister," the man went on as Kurt finally shook hands with him, "Kurt McVeigh?"

"Uh, yeah," he nodded. "I met your sister through work."

"Ah, of course, where else?" he smiled kindly. "Well, she's talking with the detective right now and since I'm her butler for the day, I've been tasked to deliver her some ice she decided she needed desperately…" he shook the cup slightly, "Would you like me to tell her you're here?"

"Oh, no," Kurt shook his head, trying to appear nonchalant. "I can wait but I'm not sure how long. I might have to leave soon if they take longer and I don't want to disappoint her if I don't get to see her, you know?"

Daniel nodded, "Understandable."

"I'll just wait here," Kurt gestured to the seat he'd just occupied. "But thanks."

"Well, whatever you say," Daniel smiled. "I better run. She gets cranky when I keep her waiting."

"Yeah," Kurt nodded.

"It was great to meet you, Mr. McVeigh," they shook hands again. "I do hope you won't have to wait too long. I'm sure she'd be glad to see you. She gets tired of my company easily."

He was obviously kidding and Kurt had to smile. Daniel was more open compared to Diane, but there were some mannerisms and obvious likeness in their features that was apparent. Daniel was less formal, judging from his obvious disregard for looking put together at all times like Diane, but he still looked presentable even while underdressed, also like Diane. Still, there were telling signs that screamed they were related.

But, not so surprisingly, it was obvious the brother knew nothing about Kurt. He wasn't entirely sure whether to be relieved or not. He wasn't upset or sad or anything since after all they hadn't been together _that _long and they did sort of break whatever they had off already. So how should he feel about her not telling her brother about him?

Not that he care or anything.

"Do remember my thoughts on Vogue," Daniel grinned, saluting him with the cup full of ice then headed back towards the room. "I have nothing against Glamour, but Vogue's clothes are usually better." He waved, "See you around."

Seating himself back down and tossing aside the magazine, Kurt found himself brooding again, this time his thoughts a little darker as he glared at the offending girly crap he'd just tossed aside. Well, that went _great_, he scowled. _If_ he ever did get the chance to see Diane again and her brother was around, how was he going to spare his dignity when the man probably thought he was some sort of gay man?

Not that he was going to and not that he _cared_.

Kurt decided was going to kill De Luca for this.

-o0o0o0o0o-

Well, this was crap but it's been so long since I updated, I thought I should do something about it. Oh, well.

_**Note:**_

_**To Ellie:**_  
We've talked so much on ECB, now I'm wondering which parts I have left to reply  
Malcolm not_ just_ a cheating bastard? lmao I'm still keeping quiet about him and Spellman and whoever else I might drag into this. Still, I am planning on keeping this cheating rat bastard too. He'll definitely come in useful for some things.

Oh, I love that you're looking forward to De Luca interacting with Diane. I think that's definitely coming in next chapter. I'm not saying anything, I'm not even hinting at anything, but how would you expect this guy and Diane to interact? Do tell.

Hm…do you notice a lot of people feel guilty in this story? I hope I'm not laying it on too thick. I'll try and rectify this as soon as I can. I need to find some balance. Stupid writing, I've been blocked completely for two weeks. I wrote half of this in one night, hence why it's so crappy. Pfft.

And teehee…now you think "Matthew" is behind this? Oh, I do love ideas! Keep you theories coming! Seems like you're the only one interested in reading this fic here in . I'm severely deprived of interacting with readers. Thank you, Ellie! You and the girls at ECB have been keeping this story alive.

Sorry my reply is a little random. I'm sleep deprived yet again after writing all this. Half my brain is asleep already. I'm a bit of scatterbrain today.  
Anyway, see you at ECB!

_**To Becky:**_  
Thank you for that info on nurses. I'll try editing sometime. I honestly have no idea how nurses interact with patients so your review really helped! I'm really glad you're enjoying my story! Please, tune in. I'm going to try and updated faster. I think I'm almost over with this stupid writer's block deal. Thank you for taking the time to review!

- o -

Whoever else is reading, if you have time to review, do whatever you want. You already know what I think anyway.  
Thanks.


	9. Chapter 9: The Little Things

**Blackout**  
by: raileht

**Summary:** It was over. The fight in her was almost completely out and she was nearing total exhaustion. She was about to die.**  
Disclaimer: **The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.  
**Rating: **T, to be safe  
**Spoilers/Timeline:** post-finale but I've omitted some facts and scenes to better fit the story and you'll figure out which ones I hadn't included along the way. But if you have questions, just ask.

**Warning: **Bad words and a lot of violence right from the start. Will be a somewhat dark story so people will be in pain—physical and emotional. Maybe not for the faint hearted.  
**Warning#2: Deviating a little from the usual format for one scene, I really liked how it played in my head…I'm hoping you guys will like it too.**

_**It's possible there will be more scenes like this…because I'm crazy and inconsistent that way. My brain has schizo-like tendencies and I have at least five or six people in my brain…they hate me and my fanfic so…er, that should explain a few things. We're admitting to being partially insane, but that's it…for now.**_

**Chapter Title taken from:**  
Colbie Caillat, _The Little Things_

-o0oo0oo0o-

**Chapter Nine: The Little Things**

Diane was uncomfortable.

No matter what good things she's heard about Detective De Luca, she was uncomfortable and it wasn't his fault. She'd sent Daniel out, acting more on instinct rather than thinking about her emotional response to being alone with a stranger. Logically, her mind knew this man was a respected member of the Chicago law enforcement with a stellar reputation, but emotionally and mentally, she was _uncomfortable_.

But she didn't show it.

Among the many things she learned from her father, one of them was to _never _let anyone see or feel your fear or any sort of weak emotion that could easily be used to prey on you. She'd learned that early on as a child because her father was an excellent teacher and he wanted his daughter to be tough.

It wasn't because he was pushing her to be like him or anything of the sort, rather it was his way of making sure that if ever the time came he wasn't going to be there for her anymore, he wouldn't have to worry too much about leaving her behind. Her father tended to worry about her and if she was an ungrateful brat, she'd blame it on his chauvinistic tendencies, but she knew better. He'd come from an all too different time where men protected women because it was the_ normal_ thing and Diane knew and accepted that much.

Plus—not that she'd ever admit it loudly to _anyone_—he liked to baby her. It annoyed her at times too, but, again, that was just her father being _Daddy_. And—again, she'd _never_ admit it—she secretly liked it too…_sometimes_.

Her father taught her to be tough, taught her things she never would have learned in classrooms or even in law school. She was great at pretending, at bluffing, at _making _people see what she wanted them to see and, most of all, she was particularly great at masking emotions.

Then again, that was something her father _hadn't _taught her. That was something that couldn't have been taught or at least, something Diane had not learned that from anyone. Her father had been affectionate with his children, something people who only knew him professionally and never saw him with his family, would never believe to be true.

But everything else, Diane learned from her father. He taught her to be strong, to take whatever life threw at her and Diane had made sure her father knew she would be able to take care of herself, no matter what.

So even if she was uncomfortable, feeling close to throwing up _and _even tempted to scream, she wouldn't. Her father raised her better than that and she wasn't going to let _this _break her. She was safe, she reminded herself and she went as far as _not _crossing her arms, knowing how defensive that might make her appear. Instead, she laced her fingers together, the tips of the ones on her good hand tracing the hard edge of her cast that covered a part of her hand.

Detective Anthony De Luca had a reputation of sorts around Chicago and though Diane never met the man, she'd heard of him. He was one of the best, a decorated veteran cop and it honestly helped her calm down a little. He was a good man, that much she knew, but still, it didn't stop her skin from crawling and her heart beating wildly as she strained not to watch him too much as he stood on the side of her bed.

She was thankful she wasn't attached to a heart monitor, knowing that alone would have given her away _literally _in a heartbeat.

It didn't help either that she was dressed in the usual god-awful hospital gowns and practically nothing else and sitting underneath a thin sheet and completely unaware of how she looked. Wanting to look presentable at this moment was not cause of vanity, but rather her dependence on always looking put-together and having a mask to hide behind that consisted of a make up, some jewelry and beautiful clothes.

Presentation was everything, _that _was something she'd learned from her mother and looking impeccable was always a good mask when wanting to look unfazed and collected. She didn't have that advantage, sad to say, so she would have to rely on body language. Paranoid as it may seem, Diane could not help herself.

She was a good actress, or as her brother would prefer to eloquently put it—she was great at _bullshitting_, which, of course, helped her in her profession but she was beginning to learn that this particular ability of hers was also helping with _this _situation. Diane was glad she was maintaining her calm. She was probably appearing like an ice queen or even a bitch, but who gave a damn? If there was something she _wasn't _ever going to be, it was a _victim_. Yes, she was a victim, but _no way in hell _was she going to act like one.

Not that she had anything against victims, of course, but it just wasn't her. She preferred to think she was different, that somehow, she wasn't _that _type of person. She'd never been a good crier, not even when she was a child. Daniel was the dubbed 'cry baby' of the family. Diane wasn't emotional, not like that at least.

The day she resorted to being a puddle of mess or start locking herself in her room and not come out because she was afraid would be the day she'd willingly walk in front of a bus. Diane was a fighter, plain and simple. And no cowardly bastard was going to change that or the course of her life. Whoever did this, she was going to fight just as she'd fought him the night before. She won then, she was going to win now.

Diane was uncomfortable, but that didn't mean she was going to let that stop her.

Those defiant thoughts led her to remembering and Diane almost shuddered but her mind commanded her body not to—not while there was still someone in the room. She knew the detective was watching her every move and she couldn't have him see through her façade, not now. She'd wallow later, when she was alone. Right now, there were more important matters to focus on.

"Are you sure you don't want your brother in for this, Miss Lockhart?" De Luca asked, glancing at the door momentarily before turning back towards her. "In my experience, having someone helps with things like this..."

"No," Diane said quietly, shaking her head. "You don't know my brother, detective."

He nodded, "But I do have a sister and I'd want to be there if she had to go through something like this…"

She nodded, "And what would you do if something like _this_ happened to her?"

He was silent for a moment, his eyes meeting hers, "I'd want to kill the bastard."

"My brother would be…" she glanced briefly at the pile of expensive coat and tie lumped in the chair he'd vacated, "the same and I love him for that, but I also love him enough _not _to have him end up killing someone in the process of trying to find out _who _did this because, trust me, he will try." She shook her head, "And trying will lead to disaster, that much I know."

"I understand, but—"

"I will not make a murderer out of my brother," she said bluntly, her eyes meeting his defiantly. "So, please, detective…I'd like to get through this as soon as possible…you have questions, I'm sure." She glanced at the door, "I'd like to finish before my beloved brother decides it would be a good idea to break the door down."

"Of course," he nodded, taking out his notepad.

Diane closed her eyes for a moment, "Thank you."

The questions began and she answered them and gave her account of what happened. Her uneasiness stayed and grew to greater proportions as more and more memories came, every possible detail bringing itself out to the very front of her mind, replaying like a terrifying movie, but she didn't let any of that hinder her. Her nails dug into her skin, she struggled to keep her voice level, bit the inside of her mouth and tried to ignore the rapid beating of her heart.

The tears threatened to come, but she willed them back, blinking rapidly and occasionally rolling her eyes heavenward to make sure they didn't fall. She forced herself to get through the whole thing and even went as far as _try _to give him vague details of whoever hurt her. The basic things, useless little details, none of them too helpful, but she tried anyway.

Diane got through it and she was proud of the fact that she hadn't let a tear fall or let her composure break. All that, she did, if only to maintain her façade, to have some sort of semblance of control after having her world turned upside down. She did it because she was a Lockhart and her father taught her how to be one.

If she was breaking, De Luca didn't have clue and that was, in itself, enough to let her breathe a little easier. Her heart never stopped thundering and she never stopped feeling like she was drowning, but she got through it and at the moment, that was all that mattered.

Outside, she was composed, collected and completely together. Inside though, was an altogether different story because for the first time in years, Diane found herself wishing for something that was truly impossible and had she allowed herself to cry, she would have. She still didn't and couldn't but this time it wasn't just because she didn't want anyone to see.

Diane knew if she cried then, for that particular reason, she knew she wouldn't be able to stop.

She found herself wishing for the impossible as silently, while trying with everything that was left in her not to break in front of a stranger, her heart cried out.

_Daddy, help me._

-o0o-

Daniel didn't like this, not one bit.

He'd been barred from his sister's hospital room with a sweating cup of ice that he should have known she didn't need. He knew Diane better, he couldn't believe he'd fallen for such a trick. He blamed it on his willingness to be the 'big brother'. One minute, he was getting ice, making nice to one her new visitor then next, the door had been locked with a message from one of the guards that his sister had asked for privacy.

Daniel was pissed, that was for sure, but he mostly at himself. He should have parked his ass on his seat and asked a nurse for the ice. He hated it when she pulled tricks like this on him. He should have known.

He knew why she did it, why she didn't want him in the room and he understood, but it didn't stop him from feeling useless, like somehow, she didn't need him. It hurt, of course, but he wasn't self-absorbed enough to think about his own immature reactions so, seemingly out of character, he wasn't going to break the door down and instead, wait until they were done.

Like every woman who'd walked in and out of his life, his sister needed and was silently asking for space. Normally, if this was just any other woman _that_ would be the signal to leave, but this was different. This was his sister, there was no leaving.

_When _his Diane was ready to tell him, she would and in the meantime, he will practice every ounce of patience his entire being was capable of having. Granted, he wasn't sure if he had all that much, but he would at least try. She'd been through enough as it was. He wasn't going to add to that by picking a fight because of her stubbornness.

At the moment, he knew he had at least two choices—one, bother Will but the man was on his phone again, looking non too happy and two, check out exactly _who _was his sister's visitor. The man looked like something out of a John Wayne movie and he was pretty sure he could be one if he'd only drop the fashion magazine Daniel was hoping he was only pretending to read.

Then again, Daniel supposed he could call his son, check to see what he'd done wrong _this time _that landed him in the 'almost' forgiven category, but he was pretty sure he could already guess what that was. He wasn't in the mood to argue or make small talk.

Daniel hadn't been lying or exaggerating that his own son was a stranger to him and he knew that was, in no small part, his fault. He wasn't even going to use the pathetic excuse that he _didn't _like kids or he wasn't ready for one when Nicholas came along, but Daniel _did _have his reasons. He'd always be grateful to his sister for being more of a parent than he and his first ex-wife could ever be because God knew that was the only saving grace that kept his son from turning into something else than what he was now.

Nicholas was a stranger to him, but he also knew his son was good. He was intelligent, kind, lacked the brat-like tendencies kids who grew up in a world like his usually had, he was sensible and had a good grasp on the realities of life—at least, that much Daniel knew, but he was sure he'd gotten those things right. His son was a true Lockhart, through and through, and Diane had a lot to do with that.

Daniel knew he'd been dead-beat Dad and Nicholas' mother wasn't exactly Carol Brady right from the beginning, but they both tried, in their own way. Daddy sent him toys, letters and even pictures from his travels, Mommy took him out and took him traveling when her career allowed her to and they always told him they loved him. They sent him to the best schools money could buy, gave him everything he could need and want and kept him safe and healthy.

All in all, it wasn't so bad, but Daniel was sure Mommy and Daddy did enough _not-being-there _to land their only boy on the couch. Only God, and _maybe_ his sister, knew how much they screwed him up _emotionally _by being invisible parents.

Still, it could have been worse.

Disposing the cold cup in a nearby waste bin, he pulled out his handkerchief, wiping his hands as he glanced at Will again and rolled his eyes as he noticed the man was still on the phone. God, was he glad he gave up on law. He'd gone through enough experience to last him a lifetime and _nothing _of it had involved 'helping others'. He never questioned why Diane kept doing it, but he was glad he stopped. He could live without the gold-covered-crap lifestyle.

Glancing at his handkerchief and satisfied he'd dried his hands, Daniel decided to get to know the cowboy. The man looked interesting enough even if it was apparent he was on the quiet side, but Daniel was a gifted conversationalist in a way that he could talk about himself all day and never tire so he headed towards where the man was still sitting.

But, of course, life had a somewhat _different_ idea on how he could spend his time waiting for his sister to finish talking with the detective.

Daniel's phone began to ring, making him roll his eyes as he assumed that his son was calling to give him a piece of his mind for his discretion of the day. With each month that passed, Nicholas was turning more and more into his sister and he loved them both, but heaven help him if that was the case. Reluctantly, Daniel pulled out his phone, checking the screen only to realize he'd assumed wrong.

There, flashing on the screen was the name of the first ex-Mrs. Daniel Archer Lockhart III.

Daniel felt bile rise to his throat, "Oh, _joy_."

-o0o-

"You owe me for this—_big_."

Kalinda smiled, leaning against the counter as she watched him look around the small diner. She'd chosen the place, it was out of the way and far from the main circuit of the city. She was taking precautions on this case, knowing there were too many blurred lines already to let anything else muddy the waters.

"No," she smirked, "If I'm mistaken, _you _still owe _me._"

"Oh, come on," he scowled slightly. "That was a gimme."

"Was it?" she rolled her eyes slightly. "You know you're the only one who gets a gimme in this game? Isn't this a little unfair?"

"I could lose my job for this."

"You owe me. I'm collecting."

"This case is that special, huh?" he asked, "Boss lady and all. They gonna skin you if you don't deliver?"

"I always deliver," her face decidedly turned serious.

"Oh, boy," he grinned, unfazed. "After this, we're even. I'm sticking my neck out for you, farther than usual, I'm sweatin' bullets here." He yawned, "I slipped out of work after pulling a double. Curtis' wife got sick so he had to bring her to the hospital...god, I could use some coffee…"

"No," she gave him a look and enjoyed how it made him squirm, "Give me what you got. You said you have something for me."

He grinned, suppressing another yawn and covered his mouth, "Ooh, kitty's got claws."

"No," she quirked an eyebrow. "Kitty's got a gun."

"You're a freak, you know that?"

"I'll give you three seconds," she started sliding out of her seat. "One—"

"Oh, come on, K," he mock sighed, grabbing her arm gently. "Whatever happened to greasing up the help?"

"I don't have to grease the help. The help owes me."

"Oh, boy," he grinned, unfazed. "You know I really could lose my job for this."

"You're going to lose a lot more if you dragged me all the way out here for nothing."

"It's always easy for you," he scoffed, "Your boss can't live without you. Mine on the other hand—"

"Three, " she started moving again, "I'm walking."

"Fine," he pouted, "You're no fun when you're serious."

She gave him a look, this time another reason for him to squirm as she sat back down, her face telling him she was done playing. Half the day was nearly over and here she was, getting nowhere. It didn't help they were out in a dingy little diner where only her companion was crazy enough to eat what he'd been served.

Kalinda was no snob, but even she wouldn't risk eating in a germ pool like the place they'd chosen to meet at.

"Whoever broke into the house, tampered with the wires," he began. "Mainly, the electricity—they don't know why or if something went wrong, because according to your _other _boss' statement, when he came in, he turned the lights _on_. But it's crazy, you know? Why would a guy tamper with the lights if he wasn't going to screw with them?"

Kalinda looked at her notes, "She made a call to one of the offices—"

"Yeah, to the twenty-four hour maintenance service of their community," he whistled, "What kind of place does she live in anyway? Twenty-four hour service? Jeez. Lady must be loaded…could be robbery."

"Maybe the lights were off when she came in, tried to call in for assistance but something stopped her," Kalinda said, thinking out loud. "And it's not a robbery—nothing was taken."

"Maybe he didn't have time to," he shrugged. "She interrupted him, took him by surprise. The get into it, he thinks he killed her, tucks tail and gets the hell out."

"Too easy," she shook her head. "It's too simple…this was different."

"Spidey senses tingling?"

"What else you got?" Kalinda shook her head, ignoring his childish tendencies. If this was any other man-boy, she would just up and leave, but she needed information and he was willing to give them. He made her job easier.

"The guy at the morgue," he slid a picture across to her.

"What am I looking at?"

"A _dead_ guy at the morgue."

She glared at him, "Okay, okay. That dead guy, as I told you before, Jackson, died from a bullet to the head," he pointed at the hole, "Now the hit on his forehead _may _look like it _could _have been self-inflicted, but tests came back—gunshot residue and they took a closer look at his hands."

He slid another picture and Kalinda found herself studying them, "See that?" he traced his fingers along the photo, "There's stippling here, right here on his forehead, see that starburst?"

"Consistent with a close range shot," Kalinda looked at the photos.

"Here's his hand," he slid another picture on top of the one she'd been looking at, "See that? His hand right there? Blowback."

"Hand fires the gun, blowback—blood and tissue on his hand and gun," she shook her head. "He has blood all over his hands, how did they manage to distinguish anything so fast?"

"The guys up at the lab did something with the pictures, took more samples and, this time they wanted the little suckers," he shrugged. "They were going to take what they could get and—" he pointed to the photo, "With a few more clicks…"

"I'm not seeing any…" Kalinda stopped, staring at the man across from her, the realization dawning on her, "I'm _not_ seeing anything…"

"Because…"

"…because there _isn't_ anything there."

"And this is why we're even," he grinned, "Ha! I knew you were a brainiac."

"No blowback," Kalinda ignored his comment, "This means…he didn't shoot himself."

He nodded, smile fading a little, "Yeah. And you know what this _could _mean…"

Kalinda nodded grimly, "Someone's still out there."

-o0o-

"Aren't you going to get that?"

Daniel looked up, startled as he saw Will walking towards him. The man looked composed now, as if he hadn't been stressing on the phone moments ago. He'd have to give it to the guy, it looked like he could bullshit just like his sister. It was no wonder they were partners.

"Nope," he replied, dangling his phone between his fingers. "I'm debating whether it's a good idea to just drop my phone and say it broke by accident."

Will grinned, "Who's calling?"

"Ex-wife," he grumbled, "_Numero uno_ and she's called me twice already, this is her third. Before you know it, flying monkeys will descend upon Chicago, bringing their mistress along…waving a machete for my head, if I'm lucky."

"Sounds…"

"Scary," Daniel finished. "Although it really isn't more scary than…well, she's just plain crazy, really." He looked at the lawyer, "She chased me with a meat cleaver once."

"Really?"

"Yes, but in her defense, she was pregnant at the time," he shrugged. "Hormones...god's joke on husbands and baby daddies. She made The Exorcist look like child's play."

"Sounds like a hell of a woman," Will said, leaning against the wall.

"Hell is a good word to describe her," Daniel nodded. "Batshit crazy, no doubt about it." He paused, glancing at his now silent phone. "Hey, it stopped…"

"Maybe she gave up," Will suggested, only to have the older man laugh.

"Right, give up," he snorted. "That woman is like an attack dog—once she latches on to you, there's no shaking her off. Either you knock her out, kill her _or _cut the appendage off."

"She gets more and more attractive with each description," Will said sarcastically. "Well, if she didn't give up, it must've gone into voicemail."

Daniel scowled, "Oh. Great. Now, I get to hear my beloved ex-wife screaming like a banshee over and over again. Oh, _yay_, I get to replay!"

Will chuckled, "Always nice to see exes stay friends…"

"Ha!" Daniel laughed, "Good one."

"Thanks, but…" Will stopped, glancing behind Daniel to see the two uniforms standing in front of Diane' door, "Did Diane kick you out?"

"Something like that," Daniel scowled. "She's talking with a detective."

"What?" Will stood straight, pushing off the wall and heading towards Diane's room, only to be blocked by one of the uniforms.

"Sorry, Mr. Gardner. Miss Lockhart requested that nobody be let in the room while she and Detective De Luca speak."

"What? But I'm her-her lawyer—"

"Miss Lockhart specifically requested that you and Mr. Lockhart wait outside, sir."

Will glanced at Daniel who was scowling again, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay," Will said, nodding slowly before walking back towards Daniel, "What's going on?"

"My sister…well, she can be pigheaded if she wants to be," Daniel shrugged. "She doesn't want any of us to be there when she gives her statement to that detective."

"She likes her secrets," Will said with a touch of bitterness in his voice.

Daniel kept quiet for a moment before shaking his head, "You've known her how long?"

"Why?"

"You should be used to it by now," Daniel said then walked away, "I saw a guy here."

"Where?" Will asked, glancing at the guards before following the older man.

"Ah, damn," Daniel snapped a finger, finding the waiting area empty. "He was _right _here."

"Who?"

"Guy reading a magazine," he answered, looking around. "Glamour, can you believe that?"

Will's brows furrowed, "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, some cowboy," Daniel waved a hand lazily as he sat down. "Worked with Danni?"

"You mean Kurt McVeigh?"

"Yes, that's the one," he answered. "He was reading this," he showed the magazine. "Told him Vogue was better, but he didn't seem convinced."

"You were…" Will paused, wondering if he was getting the idea right. "Discussing _women's_ fashion magazine?"

"Pretty much."

"Kurt McVeigh—mustache, dresses like a cowboy, doesn't talk much?"

"Friend of yours?"

"Uh, not really," Will shook his head, taking the seat across from Daniel with the small coffee table separating them. "He's one of our consultants at the firm. Ballistics."

"Cowboy with a gun, how _unique_," Daniel remarked. "Is he friends with my sister?"

"You could say that," Will shrugged, "I'm not sure."

"But the nurse said _you _put him on the list of allowed visitors."

"Yes, Diane…" Will sighed, "She knows Kurt better than I do."

"Ambiguous but okay," Daniel nodded. "How does she know him exactly?"

"I don't know, we haven't had much time to talk recently," Will answered, "The problems with the firm…"

"Ah, of course," Daniel nodded slowly. "I should hate you and, in fact, I've been tempted to go down here myself and wring your neck, but—"

"Excuse me?" Will looked taken aback.

"Danni said Nicholas will forever remain an only child if I do so, don't worry, you're safe," Daniel explained with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Not that I want any more spawns, but I still like sex so…there."

"But why would you want to—"

"I didn't like what I was hearing," Daniel shrugged, "I hate hearing my sister upset—"

"Wait, Diane was upset? Why?"

"For a number of reasons and she would never outright say it, but," Daniel raised an eyebrow, "_You _were one of them."

"But—"

"Don't worry," Daniel raised his hands in mock surrender, "You saved my sister…I am indebted to you so for that, I won't kill you."

"…uh, thank you," Will said, staring at the man across from him oddly.

"Thank my sister," Daniel rolled his eyes, "She's too nice. It almost sickens me."

"Too nice?" Will chuckled, "I have to say, I've described Diane in so many words, but not really…_too nice_." He paused, "Not that she isn't, I mean, _nice_ or…I mean…"

Daniel grinned, "I wasn't really going to kill you, you know. Pull back, kid. You're fine."

Will nodded, shaking his head slightly. "I blame my…inability to communicate better on lack of sleep. It's been a crazy day."

"It has, hasn't it?" Daniel sighed, looking around slightly before turning to Will again. "How…you know, I was wondering…are you sleeping with my sister?"

Will shot forward in his seat, "_What?_"

"I mean, I never pictured Danni would—"

"Excuse me, whoa, wait a minute, WAIT!" Will leaned forward, waving his hands in front of him. "Stop. Wait. I mean, I…_what?_"

"From the way you're sputtering, I'm guessing that's a no?"

"Yes, I mean, no, I mean—" Will cleared his throat, his hand fumbling for the knot of his tie, loosening it slightly. "Ahem, I," he chuckled nervously, "I am _not _sleeping with your sister. I mean, she's-she's great and she is, uhm, a-a very attractive woman but we _work _together and we run a, huh, a firm so, no, no, no…we are not, er—I'm _not_ sleeping with Diane."

"Oh, right then," Daniel chuckled. "God, the look on your face…I should have taken a picture."

"Funny," Will nodded slightly as he tried to get over having the rug pulled so suddenly from under him. "Uh, what would make you think that Diane and I were…were…"

Daniel shrugged, "Well, when I drive all the way to a woman's house, it's usually for, you know," he grinned, "And Barrington Lake, well, it's not exactly close to the city."

Will blinked, "Oh," he hummed. "Well, we had a bit of a disagreement. I said some things and I felt bad so I decided to drive to her place and try to at least apologize."

"Huh, a lawyer with a conscience," Daniel joked. "So, you fought _again _and you wanted to apologize? From what I hear, you're not the apologizing type, Will."

"Last night was different," Will admitted. "I said some things that were…out of line."

Daniel nodded, "Is that why you were behaving like a pansy ass in there?"

Will paused, frowning slightly before nodding, "Yeah."

"Plus, the fact that _this _happened," he shook his head, "Drove you crazy, didn't it?"

"You could say that," Will answered quietly. "It just…" he looked away, "When I came into the house, saw the mess, then the blood and then I saw her and-and she was just…_lying _there." He closed his eyes, willing the image away from his mind thought it was impossible. "…I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine," Daniel said, nodding slightly. "It helps…knowing." He shook his head, "God knows she won't talk to me."

"Diane tends to hide things," Will nodded, slumping slightly in his seat, suit and all though he didn't care about that at the moment. He was still too busy trying to banish the details of the night before away from his mind. He didn't want to think about that yet.

"Not to me," he shook his head, "It's been just the two of us for a while now, we've learned it's better not to hide things from each other." He adjusted the rolled sleeves on his arm, "It's no use anyway, we know each other too well."

"Must have been great, growing up knowing you're not alone."

"Spoken like a true only child," the older man chuckled, "It had its moments, I suppose. It was certainly fun having someone to play with, but of course, there were still days when we could just kill each other."

"What was it like, growing up with Diane?" Will asked, genuinely curious. He was hoping to learn more about his partner through her brother. Daniel didn't seem to have a problem talking about his sister and their lives.

"Interesting," Daniel said, "I certainly wouldn't have minded having a male twin, but Danni—"

"Excuse me, did you say twin?" Will's eyebrows shot up.

Daniel closed his eyes, letting his head fall back with a long sigh, "Oh, for god's sake, what do you people know about this woman, exactly?"

"She never mentioned that fact, just that she had a brother…"

"And since she's the more senior partner, you didn't dare question her more _or _look into her records," Daniel guessed. "Unbelievable, it's like I'm the creature of the underworld she hides in her basement."

"You're twins?"

"Yes, we are, and yes, I'm older by—" Daniel stopped, "Oh, forget it. She didn't tell you, now you know. Let's move on, shall we?"

"Do you have _any _other siblings?" Will asked, leaning forward now though he was still reeling from the latest inside fact. _Diane was a twin_. How the hell did he not know that? "I mean, I'm really curious here. How much do I really know about Diane?"

Yes, that was a good question, just _how much _did he know about the suddenly mysterious Diane Lockhart? God, it was almost funny.

"No other siblings," Daniel shook his head, "The first pregnancy drove mother insane. She was scared of everything and tended to be a little overprotective of her children. She vowed two was enough, called us perfect and that was it."

"No other siblings," Will repeated, "But…" he looked at Daniel then shook his head, "Never mind."

"What?" Come on, you'll never get things like this from my sister, might as well ask me."

"It's just…" Will placed his elbows on his knees, crouching slightly as he leaned closer. "When I spoke with Dr. Nolan he told me…" he folded his hand together, "Before they could put her under anesthesia, Diane woke up and called for someone."

"Who?" Daniel raised an eyebrow, so similar to the way his sister did.

"Uh, Matthew?" Will said, hesitating slightly. "Do you know anyone acquainted to Diane named Matthew? Because, I don't know so I'm not sure...I was wondering maybe if you'd know."

Daniel paused, staring at Will for a moment, "My sister called for Matthew?"

"That's what they told me, they said she sounded pretty anxious."

"Are they sure it was Matthew? I mean, if she just woke up, she might have been," he shrugged, "Disoriented, maybe? Or something…she called for Matthew?"

"That's what Dr. Nolan told me," Will said. "Why? Who is he?"

"No idea," Daniel said, though it sounded as if he had answered too quickly. "Maybe it's from work. I'm sure she meets a lot of people, my sister. She's good at that."

Will stared at Daniel curiously before nodding, "Maybe."

"Look at the time, it's almost lunch," Daniel stood up, "I better call for some food. God knows you can search the entire world, you'd still never find a hospital with good food. It's like a sick conspiracy…no pun intended." He turned to Will, "Staying for lunch?"

"Uh, sure."

"Good."

As the man walked away, phone in hand, Will stared after him. He didn't know Daniel Lockhart well, but Will was pretty sure he'd just been lied to. He knew that look on the man's face and that was recognition and, if he wasn't banking too much on his ability to read people, shock mixed with something else. Will was sure it wasn't just Diane who knew Matthew, whoever he was. Somehow, Daniel knew him as well. And clearly, he was someone to the two Lockharts.

Seating back against his seat, Will wondered if perhaps there was more to the story. Obviously, Matthew was someone possibly important to Diane _and _someone Daniel knew as well. He'd gone as far as lying about knowing the man, but it was too obvious he knew him. Shaking his head slightly, Will was almost to make yet another phone call but debated on it silently.

Clearly, there were still a _lot _of things to know about Diane, but was Will ready to venture into this particular area of her life? God knew what was in it and what the story behind the whole thing was, but was Will willing to pry into all that? He wasn't even sure if there was anything there, he was only following a gut feeling.

Pulling out his phone, Will tried to decide whether or not to make the call.

-o0o-

"That's everything you remember?"

Diane nodded, "For now, maybe…I don't know."

"I know this is difficult for you, Miss Lockhart," De Luca said sincerely, noticing the way she was trying not to show how much her fingers were trembling. She'd held her own through the whole thing, barely cracking and he had to admire her for that. It showed an incredible amount of control and it was apparent that it took a lot out of her.

If anything, he was sure he could guess right that this was a woman who didn't allow herself to show much emotion unless she had to. She was tough, he'd give her that, and she seemed like the type to grit her teeth and get through things without the unnecessary histrionics. He could imagine she rarely ever backed down from anything.

De Luca knew he shouldn't be thinking about anything other than work, but he could see that this woman could be the perfect match for a certain friend he'd left waiting outside.

She wasn't emotional or anything like an airhead, nowhere near a floozy and seemed sensible and, something that was quite obvious, was rather intelligent. He couldn't imagine a better match. If anything, he could really picture them bickering and arguing about anything and everything—politics to who left what where.

Of course, _that _would be thinking ahead, but De Luca was only thinking about his friend. The man needed a woman, _bad_. It just so happened that the woman he was now getting a statement from happened to be a good match for him.

"We've been investigating all morning, following up on some leads and," De Luca pulled out a small photo, deciding it was better to do it now rather than later. "Something came up."

"What?" Diane asked, hesitating only slightly he wasn't even sure if she did at all.

"A body was found this morning and we think it's the same guy who attacked you last night," he explained. "I have a photo but..."

"I-I'd like to see it," she answered, swallowing slightly. "I'm not sure if I saw his face…it was dark, but I could try…"

De Luca nodded, "His name is Mark Jackson. Does that sound familiar to you?"

"Uhm, no," she shook her head slightly. "Does he have a record?"

"Yeah, he just got out of the pen recently," he answered.

"I usually take class action cases these days," she answered. "Managing the firm takes some time and when I do try criminal cases, it's mostly pro-bono or the bigger cases…and, for the most part, for pro-bono cases, my clients are usually women."

"Of course," he nodded, "Now, this is a photo we took in the morgue. Are you sure you—"

She nodded, "Please. If it'll help at all…"

"Alright," he nodded then handed her the photo.

De Luca waited a moment, watching her closely as she held the photo in her hands. He could see the slight distress on her face, clearly trying to recognize the man in the picture.

"I…I remember trying to scratch his eye out," she said quietly, "Childish and stupid, I can imagine—"

"No," De Luca shook his head, "It's a good move. Easier to get someone off of you that way…it looked like it worked."

"It gave me time to run…" she nodded. "I'm…I can't remember his face…I was so-so…I don't know." She shook her head, her hand going to her face, "It was too dark."

"It's fine," he said. "The labs are working on the evidence. They're pretty sure it's him, but they'll work in confirming everything, of course."

"If it is him…does that mean…" she covered her lips with her fingers, "It's over?"

De Luca paused, "We'll see, Miss Lockhart."

"You're looking for a motive," she said slightly, pursing her lips. "Should be easy…just tell them what I do for a living."

He managed a small grin, "Yeah."

"Detective, would you…" she paused, biting her bottom lip slightly. "My brother told me that, uh…who found me?"

"Found you?"

"At my house, who found me? I-I wasn't expecting anyone and it was late…"

"Oh," De Luca nodded slightly, "Your partner, Will Gardner, ma'am." He paused, "We spoke with him and he said you had a discussion before you left work and he followed you home. He wanted to talk to you and instead, well, you know the rest."

Diane nodded slightly, "Thank you, detective."

"You're welcome, Miss Lockhart."

-o0o-

"Sir, there's someone here to see you."

"I already said I'm busy, Joan—"

"It's urgent, Mr. Overby," came the meek reply. "A Detective Clancy from the Chicago Police Department is here for you."

Malcolm stopped, sighing as he set his pen down and began to straighten his tie lazily. What now? He didn't have time for this. "Fine, send him in."

"Yes, Mr. Overby."

Pushing a few papers aside and setting an unopened envelop inside his desk drawer, locking shut just as the doors to his office opened. A ready smile appeared on his face as he stood up, rounding his desk with a hand stretched out. "Good afternoon, I'm Malcolm Overby. Is there anything I can do for you, Detective…I'm sorry, what was it again?"

"Clancy," the man was younger than him, but looked quite intense. Malcolm had been in the business enough to figure this one out. Kid with a boss, looking to impress and whatever the matter was, Malcolm was willing to cater to that. He wasn't old enough to forget the days when he'd been an eager associate himself, trying to please his bosses to get in the boys' club.

"I'm Detective Adam Clancy. Thank you for your time, Mr. Overby."

"Of course," he gave him the smile he usually gave clients, "Please, have a seat and tell me what brings you by. Would you like something to drink? Coffee?"

"No, thank you," the detective said as he sat down. He waited until Malcolm sat back in his seat before starting, "Mr. Overby, are you aware of news regarding a Diane Lockhart?"

Malcolm's smile faded slightly at the mention of the name and he found himself shifting slightly in his seat, straightening up the tie he'd just smoothed down moments ago, "Uh, yes, I heard…I saw the news that she was attacked in her home. Terrible tragedy…" he looked at the young man, "Are you investigating the case, Detective Clancy?"

"With Detective De Luca," he nodded. "Now, I understand you know Miss Lockhart…"

"Yes," he nodded slightly, "We're old friends."

"Then would you mind answering some questions?"

"Of course not," Malcolm said, leaning forward in his seat, trying to gain back the control he'd clumsily let slip. "Although, I have to say there isn't much I can tell you. Diane and I…well, we're just old friends."

"Would you care to elaborate on that, sir?"

"We met in law school," he said, swallowing slightly, "First year at Yale."

"You were friends?"

"Yes," he nodded, "But even back then she was pretty focused on her classes, studying every chance she could, flying to Chicago to be with her family when her scheduled allowed, things like that. It left little time for friends, but we got to know each other pretty well."

"Did you date or anything like that?"

"Oh, no," he chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "Diane was…well, I already described how she was, but I'm sure you can guess there weren't that many women taking up law at that time, at least not like now, and she was pretty driven. If she dated anyone back then, well, it wasn't me and I'm not entirely sure if she did."

"Have you been in contact with her recently?"

"Yes," he nodded. "A few months ago, we literally bumped into each other in a silent auction for charity, we got together and talked, caught up," he chuckled. "We'd been living in the same city for so long, we were quite amazed our paths hadn't crossed until then so we took advantage of it…we agreed to see each other again, catch up more."

"So you maintained contact after that event?" the detective inquired.

"Uh, yes, for a while we caught up with each other," he admitted. "I even got to see her firm once, one of those rare moments when our schedules didn't clash…" He grinned, "Lawyers and schedules, never a good combination if you want to catch up with old friends."

"So, how did that turn out?"

"Well, for a while we met regularly, but…" he trailed off, "Well, we lost touch again. Her schedule got so busy, it became harder and harder to keep catching up. We both run sizable firms, it was hard to coordinate schedules."

"You lost touch again?"

"Yes," he nodded, "Unfortunately."

"And you haven't tried to contact her since?"

"I understood she was a busy woman," Malcolm said, waving a hand lazily. "I didn't take it personally. I mean, I'm the same so I'd be a hypocrite if I held that against her."

"When was the last time you got in touch with Miss Lockhart?"

"I'm sorry," Malcolm held up a hand. "I don't mean to interrupt this little powwow, but I have to ask, being a lawyer, but what is this leading to? Diane and I are old friends and I feel terrible about what happened…you're investigating the attack, why are you here?"

"We're just talking to some people, people who have some connections with Miss Lockhart."

"Personal or professional?"

"Both, people who were in contact with her recently," the detective replied, nonplussed at the needling. He was more than ready, it seemed. "We're looking in on everyone."

"How did you even know about…about me and Diane?" he asked, his brow wrinkling. "I'm pretty sure _this _matter isn't of public knowledge."

"We've talked to a few people who saw you at the firm," Detective Clancy replied. "And you were logged in the firm's records."

"Ah, of course," Malcolm nodded.

"So, would you please answer the question?"

"Which was?"

"When was the last time you had any contact with Miss Lockhart?"

"Well," Malcolm bowed his head slightly. "I went to see her at her firm, hoping to at least try and…coordinate our schedules better. I was interested in seeing her, uh, maybe have a date. She seemed interested so I thought I'd give it a try, I mean, what did I have to lose, right?"

"Right," Clancy nodded. "So, did you? Have a date, I mean."

"No," Malcolm said, shifting uneasily in his seat. "I mean…I…"

"Yes?"

"I have to say it wasn't my best moment," the lawyer admitted, looking contrite. "I…my temper got the best of me, I admit that, but honestly, what was done to Diane…I wouldn't do it. God in heaven, I wouldn't hurt her."

The detective leaned forward, "What are you talking about, Mr. Overby?"

"I went to her firm to ask her out, maybe lunch or dinner," Malcolm explained, "It wasn't too long ago, but…well, let's just say it didn't exactly go as I originally planned…"

"_What do you think you're doing here?"_

_Malcolm Overby was used to hostility, he was a lawyer after all, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out _why_ he was getting hostility from Diane Lockhart. The last time they'd seen each other, things had gone _so well_. It was when she stopped taking his calls when things just went straight downhill with no warning whatsoever._

_He'd chalked it up her being a woman—fickle, nutty and just downright unexplainable—but thinking back, he realized she wasn't just_ any_ woman, this was Diane Lockhart, for god's sake. He was so sure she was a cut above the rest._

_Then again, that's what he always thought of his girlfriends and ex-wife. When was he ever going to learn? _Women, can't live with them...

"_Diane," he smiled easily. He'd dealt with rabid clients before, he could deal with her easy. He knew her well enough to know she wasn't the scene-making type, especially not in her own firm. "It's nice to see you too."_

_She walked into her office, tall and beautiful, but looking very much like the Diane he'd seen in court, which meant she was ready to let her claws out. Uh-oh. He was in deep trouble, which was unfair, when he hadn't done anything. His frat brothers were right. Women are crazy and it was obvious that Diane Lockhart was no exception._

"_I'm busy, please leave," she said, walking past him and heading to her desk. She situated herself in her seat, not bothering to even look at him as she grabbed a file that had been placed at the corner of her desk._

"_Diane, I honestly don't know what's gotten into you—"_

"_Mr. Overby," her voice was cold and was practically launching icicles at him and her eyes were the same. "I have a client coming in and I'd like to get some things done before we meet. Now, this time I'm not asking you." Her eyes narrowed, "Leave."_

"_Miss Lockhart," two could play this game and he easily switched his tone from cordial to formal. "I came here with the purpose of talking to you, but since you're in no mood to talk," childishly, he was chalking it up to _that time of the month_ but wisely kept his mouth shut. "I'm going right ahead to my _other_ reason for coming."_

"_And what would that be?" she said sarcastically with just the right amount of hostility. She was humoring him, which was a good sign, but given the past few months, he was sure she could go to humoring him to calling security in a drop of a hat._

_He had to do this fast._

"_I'll just say this right out," he said, gesturing slightly with his hand. He was going from wounded wooer to businessman. He could be just as good with the old switcheroo as her, thank you. "I want to buy your firm."_

"_Excuse me?" he wished he had a camera. It wasn't everyday anyone could easily pull the rug from under Diane Lockhart. _That_ was an achievement right there._

"_But of course, with you in it," he added smoothly, slipping his hands into his pocket. "I'm willing to make a starting offer," he pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper and placed it in front of her. He watched as she eyed it, one eyebrow lifting only slightly and he had to admit it was quite a turn on how she managed to stay so cool, knowing the numbers he'd written had to have been impressive. Then again, he had to remind himself who he was talking to._

"_That's my firm's starting offer, but your salary is _not_ included yet and of course," he smiled charmingly as she looked at him, the paper in front of her untouched. "The added bonuses you'll get for new clients. I'll match your current salary, if that'll do it."_

_She was staring at him, he had her attention. He knew he had to keep going before she snapped out of whatever lull he'd managed to bring her to with the piece of paper he'd just given her. This was going to be easier than he thought._

"_Your client list, files—I get everything," he continued. "You can sell your office space since I will be giving you your own office back at my firm," he eyed the windows that surrounded her, "I obviously cannot offer the same view, but I can offer you the same office size, bigger if you want. The view will be different…more tall buildings and the like, but I think you already know that."_

_Yes, ensnare her even more. This was seduction in business and she was interested._

"_We'll get together, talk some business and get the final numbers in," he shrugged. "That's my opening offer and I can say it has to be better than how you're doing now." He smiled, "I won't lie to you, Diane. I want your _name_."_

_His mother did always tell him honesty was the best policy._

"_My name?" she looked curious and surprised, fingers playing with the double strands of pearls around her neck._

"_Yes," he nodded. "Whether you acknowledge it or not, you're one of the biggest names in Chicago for your career alone. Then add in your family history…"_

_He let it hang in the air. Her father had been a Congressman, one people actually loved, but she'd made a name for herself well enough that people had long ago written off her father as an afterthought when talking about Daddy's Ice Princess. She'd built an impressive reputation for herself beyond the Lockhart name and made an altogether different one on her own._

"_You'll live in the same luxuries you've long grown used to," he cooed, giving her a smile again, this time a more intimate one. "I'll give you freedom to choose your clients and I know you're known for your pro-bono cases as well, you'll have carte blanche on that matter. You'll be slated as a non-equity partner, yes, but that can change. It won't be the same as having your own firm, but everyone will know you're still Diane Lockhart and I can promise that you'll be respected and well-received in my firm. You'll be one of the most senior lawyers there."_

_He watched her for a moment, tilting his head to the side before adding, "Of course, your non-equity status can change, with time, and knowing _you_, it won't take long." He smiled slightly, "You've never been one to disappoint and I am more than confident you'll be a valuable asset to our firm."_

"_Why would you want this?" she asked, suspicious. "You're offering a lot more than you should be offering me…why?"_

"_You're Diane Lockhart," he said simply. "You deserve nothing less."_

_She raised an eyebrow, a sign that she was slowly coming back to life. If he'd had her in a trance, she was slowly coming out of it already. Time was almost up._

"_And okay, a client saw you at that class-action case you won against McCloon," he said, fessing up with a grin. "Zennapril Pharmaceuticals and that move you pulled with the application they filed in Europe. It impressed a lot of people. It was ingenious."_

_Diane stared at him, he took it as his cue to keep going._

"_We'll spin it, call it a merger," he said, giving in. He was throwing everything he had in this pot, why not the last trick he had up his sleeve? The woman had pride that much was clear. "We'll do a press release, say we're merging instead of declaring that I'm buying you out."_

"_What about my people?" she asked and he was tempted to start jumping up and down. But no, he was a grown man, a _businessman_ and a _lawyer_. He'd jump in his closed office later with a glass of champagne to celebrate if need be._

"_Your people?" he echoed, feigning ignorance. "Well, you can bring them with you, of course, we'll have to discuss matters on that, but if that's what it'll take to bring you over, why not?"_

_She crossed her arms, eyeing him still with suspicion, but there was a glint in her eyes that told him he'd accomplished something. He was working towards his goal, now he just needed to reel her in._

"_And Will?"_

"_Will?"_

"_My partner," she rolled her eyes, which amused him. "I'm not the only partner of this firm. We're going to have to discuss your offer _**together**_."_

_Ah, yes. He'd heard of that matter. Yes, Will Gardner. He knew a_ lot _about Will Gardner, as did everyone in their circle did. He couldn't help but smile, "There's a reason why I came to you."_

"_And what would that be?" she said, her eyes daring him to say the wrong thing._

"_I want you, just you," he shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "If you want Will as part of the deal, I can keep him as well, but…if you want him gone." He spread his arms wide, "He's gone."_

_He saw her eyes widen and her lips open partially. He'd kissed those lips only weeks before, god, and he wanted to kiss them again now, for a whole new set of reasons. He was _in_. Malcolm got ready, circling in for the kill, the best part of the game. He could definitely taste victory and it was sweet._

"_You're the one I want," he said repeated, voice smooth as velvet. "And I heard you haven't been getting along because of the financial troubles your firm is facing, among other things." He paused. "I've also heard rumors about some…_conflict_ you've been having among the associates."_

_He let that hang in the air. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't been hoping to use this trick._

_After Duke Rosco, everyone in town already knew about Alicia Florrick and her relationship with Will Gardner. He couldn't deny he'd been keeping an ear out for that one. And if Malcolm knew Diane any better, he knew she'd be against something so tawdry, professionally and personally. It was Will who had moral issues, not Diane._

"_You won't have that in my firm," he went on. "You will get the respect you so deserve and _more_, Diane. Loyalty won't be questioned; I can assure you of that."_

_She was big on loyalty too, he knew that as well._

"_Stern has already made some progress in building up his new firm," he motioned to the windows where in one of the tall buildings he was sure Jonas Stern was. Her beloved mentor who turned on her, that was another ace he had up his sleeve. Being his best protégé, Diane had been nothing but loyal to him, but of course the sniveling little bastard threw her under the bus the moment the opportunity presented itself._

_If anything, Malcolm knew that must have devastated her, god only knew what it did to her ability to trust and venture into newer partnerships. Nevertheless, Stern's loss was about to be his gain._

"_You won't have to go through that kind of betrayal, Diane," he soothed with a solemn face, as if he could sympathize with her, what she was feeling. "I'll make sure of that."_

_And _right then,_ Malcolm knew he'd made a mistake. One moment, he had her, he was sure, but he saw her face suddenly morph into something different. She was passive in his seduction, showed slight signs of giving in near the end, but suddenly, something shifted._

_Her eyes hardened, her hands curled into tight fists and she pursed her lips into a grim red line. He knew that look, as did most lawyers in the law district did. That was Diane Lockhart in Ice Queen mode and often, if not always, that meant someone's destruction._

"_You're making quite an offer, Mr. Overby," she said smoothly as she stood up, long elegant fingers smoothing her skirt as she did so. "And I have to say, while I was suspicious, I _was _also _intrigued_, but…"_

_Her eyes told him he'd blown it, somehow he'd done or said something that ruined everything. He didn't know what he did, but there was _something_. It pissed him off that he couldn't figure out _what_. The woman had to be insane, or if not, at the very least had schizophrenic tendencies._

_Malcolm was getting tired of playing a game he didn't even know the rules to. She was screwing with him, plain and simple and it wasn't fair. He was a lawyer, but even _this_ he found unfair._

"_Your firm is floundering," he said, reeling from the sudden change. What the hell had he done now? He'd had her, he'd been so sure! What changed? So quickly too! This was insane. _She _was insane._

"_We're fine."_

"_And how many times do you say that to yourself when you go through the books?" he suddenly blurted out without meaning to. He'd said it with venom too and he was sure however deeply he'd seduced her, he'd just broken her free._

_But he'd said it already and he was angry so there was no turning back._

"_When payroll comes in, do you notice how you struggle with each month?" he ground out. "How many layoffs already? How many _more_? How many pay cuts have _you_ gone through? What necessary things have you cut just to get the business afloat? Validation for parking, _that's_ out the window, if I noticed correctly. What _else_?"_

"_I think we're done talking business, Mr. Overby," she said smoothly, unaffected by his outburst. "Now, please leave." _

"_You're making a big mistake, Diane," he said, eyes narrowing. "Your firm is going under, it's time to face the facts. You're going down with it but I'm offering you something you'll _never_ get from anyone." He smirked, "Don't be a fool."_

"_Too late," she said darkly, walking towards the door, past him again then opened it._

"_Diane—"_

"_Goodbye, Mr. Overby," she said simply, motioning for the open door._

"_You're insane," he muttered. "You're turning down the best offer you could ever get."_

"_I'll take my chances," she hissed, voice dripping with venom._

_He walked past her, his eyes boring into hers, "Then you're screwed."_

"Like I said," Malcolm said, shrugging as he rubbed the side of his face with one hand wearily, "It wasn't my brightest moment."

"Is that what the flowers were for?"

"Flowers?"

"There were flowers sent to Miss Lockhart's office, just today," Detective Clancy said, "Gardenias and there was a note with—"

"_I'm sorry_," Malcolm nodded, finishing for him with a slight wave of his hand. "I…felt terrible about what I'd said and done, I couldn't believe I reacted like that…better late than never, right?"

"Yeah," the detective nodded. "If I pissed off a woman I was trying to date, I'd wanna send some flowers too. Pronto."

"Exactly," the lawyer smiled. "I mean, of course, it wouldn't begin to atone for what I've done, but it was a start at least. Diane…well, she's a special woman with high standards. Her forgiveness, I'm sure, wouldn't be easy to win."

"I'd guessed as much," Clancy nodded. "So, that fight—"

"I'd rather say it was a small misunderstanding…"

Clancy nodded, "Of course. So after that _small misunderstanding_, you haven't spoken to Miss Lockhart since then? Not even through the phone or email?"

"No, I'm afraid not," Malcolm looked solemn. "I…god, I can't believe this happened to Diane, I mean, she really is a wonderful person." He shook his head, "Honestly, I can't think of why anyone would want to hurt her."

"Well, this is Chicago and to be honest, basing on my experience," the detective shook his head, "You can pretty much find _any _reason to hurt someone if you wanted to bad enough."

Malcolm nodded, "Yes…I suppose you're right."

-o0o0o0o0o0o-

Yes, I noticed Kalinda's friend had no name. Intentional.

Yes, I still think this chapter sucked. I think you guys might just agree this time…this was _bad_, on many levels.

And yes, I can hear you…where did Kurt go? *blinks* Shhh...

Anyway, I must admit I got so excited when I saw the reviews and I couldn't help myself and replied to those who replied with accounts. Usually, I reply before posting, but I was really just so happy, I couldn't wait. Anyway, but since my good, good, good friend Ellie doesn't have an account _here_, I think she's the only one I haven't replied to yet.

_**Note:**_

_**To Ellie:**_  
I think I can definitely be sure I let you down with the whole Diane-De Luca scene. It was hard to write, honestly. I didn't know how else I could spin it. I don't know…you already know something hasn't been right with me lately—why am I sleeping at NIGHT now anyway? I still don't know! I think the good scene between those two will come _after _since I honestly didn't know how I could spin a supposed to be serious scene like that.

If I can promise anything, Diane and De Luca will have more amusing scenes in the future—I've got a few drafts in for those already. And yes, it will have something to do with someone they both have in common with. Teehee. **McLuca shall go on!**

I'm very happy you still like Annie and yes, it is something like what we discussed on parenting, right? She's still conked out, but I think I might bring her around again soon. And yes, I am willing to admit that I enjoyed writing that scene with Daniel committing a felony. Teehee.

Okay, even if I thought the chapter was crap, I'm glad you seemed to like it. I really think you guys are seeing something I'm practically blind to. I'm glad you guys like my story—I do like getting feedback about it, though I don't believe some of what you guys say. lol

Anyway, I'll catch you on ECB. It's only 11pm here and I am really sleepy already. I don't get what's wrong with me, but there's something…ugh. And yes, I will tell my Muse…whoever or whatever she may be, that someone greatly appreciates her! That might make her work faster. Haha.

Thanks again, Ellie! We still remember what you did so THANK YOU so much!

To _**Everyone **_else,  
Thank you for reading, please leave a review if you have the time and stick around, more will come…and I'm hoping it'll be better.  
Thanks!

**PS **If there are any typos, I will edit later, right now...my eyes can't stay open anymore. NO beta, barely edited this...now I really am considering the offer, Rose!


	10. Chapter 10: Give a Little More

**Blackout**  
by: raileht

******Summary:** It was over. The fight in her was almost completely out and she was nearing total exhaustion. She was about to die.**  
Disclaimer: **The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.  
**Rating: **T, to be safe**Spoilers/Timeline:** post-finale but I've omitted some facts and scenes to better fit the story and you'll figure out which ones I hadn't included along the way. But if you have questions, just ask.

**Warning: **Bad words and a lot of violence right from the start. Will be a somewhat dark story so people will be in pain—physical and emotional. Maybe not for the faint hearted.**  
Warning#2: The more I write each chapter, the clearer it becomes just who the guy for Diane in this story **_**may**_** be. Unintentional, I swear…it just happened. I hope you people reading this are pleased with this…realization of sorts.**

**Chapter Title taken from:**  
Maroon 5, _Give a Little More  
_

-o0oo0oo0o-

**Chapter Ten: Give a Little More  
**

Kurt McVeigh was sure he was going to get shot that day.

Then again, he was pretty sure he hadn't done anything wrong, except move a few floors down from where he'd been instructed to stay. Besides, he was a grown man with a mind of his own, it was his right to choose where or where not to wait. De Luca was going to bitch about things, but he'd just have to get over it. Kurt wanted to get out.

It was bad enough he'd been caught reading a woman's magazine by the last person he'd ever thought to share chat with—he hadn't even known he _existed—_Kurt wasn't going to wait around for something worst to take place. And that was why he'd gotten out the moment he noticed Diane's brother had been denied access to his sister's room. He knew De Luca wouldn't do a thing like that, but he could definitely imagine Diane doing it so, as quietly as he could, Kurt left.

He'd taken the stairs, in a sudden fit of paranoia to avoid bumping into anyone. Granted, he didn't really know anyone in the city other than people in the business, Kurt preferred to make his way down alone. He liked being alone, it gave him time to think and boy, he needed to do a lot of thinking. Plus, the exercise wouldn't hurt. People who didn't like stairs, in his mind, probably had more chances of dying faster, earlier.

So, here he was, standing outside the hospital, under the sun. It wasn't too hot that people would scurry for the shadows and was, as a matter of fact, a rather pleasant day to be outside. There was a slight breeze in the air, enough to not make one perspire. With his hands in his pockets and breathing in and out, Kurt found that the air outside was already slowly helping clear his mind.

He would have preferred to be back in his farm, breathing in the cleaner air, but who was he kidding? He couldn't go back, even if he tried. Kurt wouldn't admit it to anyone—especially not to a certain suddenly nosy detective—but even if he did manage to get back to his place, he'd be driving back to the city before the day was even done.

Now, with that truth silently admitted though not entirely accepted, the lone cowboy wondered what to do. De Luca was still with Diane, a given since he hadn't heard a bellow or a sliding of a gun safety. He couldn't wait out of her room with her brother _and _Will Gardner just around the corner. Pathetic as it was, he really just wanted to be alone. It wasn't that he disliked the other men, it was more on the grounds that he needed to _think_.

Even if he wanted to, Kurt couldn't just walk into Diane's room as if nothing happened. They hadn't remained in contact for a reason and though he wasn't sure where exactly their relationship—if one could even call it that—stood, he was sure he wanted be _with _her. He didn't need to talk not because he had nothing to say, but rather because, knowing the two of them, it would only lead to some sort of argument. They were both headstrong, opinionated and clearly in opposing sides of a lot of things—not the best combination for a conventional relationship.

Plus, the fact that their last encounter hadn't gone so well, he was sure she had some things to say too. Diane wasn't cruel, at least not intentionally so, but he could still imagine getting kicked out of her room and he wouldn't blame her. He was pretty sure dropping off the face of the earth was not something she took lightly. He had let work affect what they were only starting to build and he knew that made everything else look _less _promising. They'd started out great, flirting, laughing and drinking, but since the last case they were both involved in, everything had gone straight downhill.

Then again, a part of him wondered maybe _that _was a sign. Clearly, politics wasn't the only area in their lives where they could strongly disagree. Work itself was a potential minefield.

Kurt walked away from cases _if _the client was guilty, whereas Diane's job was to stay _even if _her client was guilty. Of course, it didn't mean she was a bad person, but still, people didn't make jokes about lawyers for nothing. He couldn't see the future, but he was sure, at some point, should he and Diane manage to get past the things between them _now_, she was bound to get clients he would greatly disapprove of. Then what?

Nobody wanted a relationship that could extend both at work _and _at home. The pitfalls were enough in one area, to mix both was practically a death sentence to a relationship, especially to one as conflicted and shaky as theirs.

Still, in the short time they'd spent together, she'd managed to separate work, politics and her personal life when dealing with whatever they had. That gave him a small hope that maybe _if _managed to work things out, their relationship might have a chance.

Then again, he couldn't help but fear that _if _she did give him a chance to say his piece, she might end up thinking he was only saying those things because of what happened to her. It wasn't true, not really. He'd been meaning to call, but somehow, something always held him back.

She intimidated him, plain and simple, but that was also one reason why he _wanted _to comeback to her. Kurt liked the challenge, liked the fact that she wouldn't back down from him _just because_ and, as long as he was being honest, he actually enjoyed their verbal sparring. It was fun rousing her passion for her beliefs because every time she started fighting for something, no matter how small or insignificant the topic, she fought with everything.

Diane, to him, was beautiful even when angry and, in fact, became more attractive in those moments. It was quite alluring when she let go like that. He hadn't told her and realized that, maybe he should have.

There were a _lot _of things Kurt should have said to Diane.

Kurt wouldn't even try denying hearing that dreadful news from the television that she was _gone _hadn't given him one hell of a wake up call because it _did_. He would be lying if he said it didn't. It was only _then_ when he realized he didn't like waking up to a world _without _her even if they weren't together or speaking at all.

Damn, he thought, shaking his head slightly. She'd made him go soft. What a sad case he was turning into. Yes, every man's fall was a woman, he could attest greatly to that.

Catching sight of a bench on the grassy front of the hospital, Kurt found himself gravitating towards it.

It really was a lovely day.

-o0o-

"Are you seeing anyone at the moment, Miss Lockhart?"

Diane stopped, looking away slightly as she mulled over the question. She'd been about to say yes, but out of the blue, her mind had gone to Kurt. She hadn't seen him in a while and though they hadn't truly put a name on the status of their relationship, Diane could admit to herself that it still meant something to her. He'd been the first man she'd truly let herself begin to somewhat connect with in a long time, not counting her last encounter with Malcolm Overby—a mistake she preferred not to discuss or even think about.

Still, as she considered how Kurt might feel about her, she didn't dare think he would still be willing to continue something with her. Diane knew what she'd done had been shameless and underhanded, something a lawyer would do, but certainly not a woman who cared for a man would, right? The job and her personal life were two things, but with Kurt—a man she still could not believe she was seriously attracted to—the lines had really been blurred when they'd last seen each other.

Of course, she was big enough a person to admit that had happened mostly through her own machinations and she wouldn't blame the man if he never forgave her. She'd seen an opportunity and taken it, that was the lawyer part of her, something she could not suppress and she wasn't sorry, at least, not really. The fact that she'd lost someone she could almost begin to accept to care about in the process was something she was sorry for though.

Diane was sure the man wouldn't care to see her again after what she did so she looked at the detective and said a firm, "No."

"Broke up with anyone recently?"

"Anyone who would do this to me?" Diane quirked an eyebrow, "No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I don't pick men out of the gutter, detective."

De Luca nodded, "Of course…I'm sorry I'm taking up so much of your time, I know you need your rest. We can stop for now and—"

Diane managed to shake her head, "To be honest, detective, I'd love nothing more to get out of here. I think I've rested enough." She shrugged, "I can't remember the last time I stayed in bed past nine in the morning."

De Luca nodded, "I understand. Lawyer's life and all."

"Mhm," she nodded. "Is there anything else?"

"Unfortunately," De Luca nodded, sitting on the edge of the seat where she'd delegated him. "Prior to finding Mark Jackson, our investigators searched your home, for evidence."

Diane nodded, "I imagine you found…some."

"Yes," he nodded, "But there were also other things we found."

"Like?"

"Letters," he answered, steeling himself for an outburst. "We found a stack of letters in your home office. I think you know which ones I'm talking about."

Diane swallowed slightly, "I see."

"Now, we know we have Jackson and we can tie him to the attack, but honestly, _I _can't tie him to the letters," De Luca admitted, "I can see a thug like him dealing, but I can't see him writing letters like that. They were too educated for a guy who didn't even finish high school."

"They're not from him," she said. "I don't even know who he is."

"Who? The one who wrote the letters or Jackson?"

"Both."

"You don't know who has been writing you letters, Miss Lockhart?"

"No," she admitted. "If I did, don't you think I would have done something about it?"

"Of course, I'm sorry, please, go on."

"The one who wrote those letters…" she continued, closing her eyes briefly. "He seems to think he knows me. They started coming a few months ago, delivered to my house. I'm never there when it comes, but when it does…it's always there, waiting for me."

"You have no _idea _who would write those letters? Anyone at all? Someone with a grudge, former business associate or some you might have been acquainted with at one point?"

"I honestly don't know."

"You've had some lay-offs in your firm," De Luca began, "Was there anyone who reacted violently? Can you think of anyone?"

"If you worked for the same firm and devoted the best years of your life and got fired unexpectedly, wouldn't _you _react violently?" she raised an eyebrow. "We had to let a _lot _of people go, not all of them young and I don't have to tell you that ageism is poison to people in our profession."

"So, if I started a list—"

"On who might be angry with the firm?" she raised an eyebrow, "I'm afraid it's going to be quite a long list."

De Luca nodded before continuing, "We're also looking in on Jeffrey Spellman," he added and he saw her flinch slightly.

The fact alone that he saw her react told him she was wearing down. De Luca didn't like putting her through this, not so soon after everything, but it had to be done. He _wanted _to help her and this was the only way to go. "He was a client of yours, got sent away for a decade."

She nodded, "Yes. He was paroled…a few months ago."

"He threatened you, in open court after he was sentenced," De Luca said slowly. "He tried to grab you when the judge gave the final verdict. It took three bailiffs to get him down."

"Yes, I know," her eyes met his and he saw them hardening. In his very eyes, he could see her defenses coming up, fast. It was going to make his job harder, but he didn't mind. It meant she still had some fight in her. That was a good sign. "I was there."

"Yes, you were," he nodded. "Did he threaten you, after he got locked up?"

She nodded, "He sent letters…detailing what he'd do to me _when _he gets out."

"So—"

"But he didn't write those letters," Diane said, shaking her head slightly.

"How do you know?"

"Spellman's letters were crude and vicious, he wanted to strike the fear of god in me," she breathed in deeply, "The letters that started coming however…they were different."

"How?"

"The words…the way whoever sent it to me wrote them…" Diane paused, "It's just different."

"Has Spellman sent you any letters after he got out?"

"No," she shook her head, "The last time I saw him…it was when I testified against his release."

"He threatened you _during _his trial?"

"In his own subtle way," she nodded, "He was very angry with me and time hadn't diminished that feeling, unfortunately."

De Luca nodded, "And they let him out."

The corners of her lips turned up though there wasn't any sign of humor, "Yes, they did."

"Has Spellman contacted you since his release?"

"No, he hasn't," she shook her head.

"The letters, you never told anyone? Never reported it?"

She shook her head, "I was going to, but with everything happening in the firm, I'm afraid it kept slipping my mind."

"Someone is dropping threatening letters in your home and it slips your mind?" he gave her a look that showed just how ridiculous the whole thing sounded.

"I have priorities, detective," Diane said, steeling her voice. "The economy hasn't exactly been very kind to everyone—the last thing my firm needed was a bunch of uniforms knocking on doors, asking for information. I might as well close shop if I took that route."

"Miss Lockhart, not reporting the letters put your in a very vulnerable—"

"Spare me the lecture, detective," she cut him off. "Much as I respect your profession, what could you have done then? What, you'd have posted officers outside my home, put the area under surveillance, see who drops it off?" she said incredulously, "Then, _of course_, catch a hapless messenger, right? Some guy who was paid a few bucks to drop off a letter, an innocent. _Then,_ as if that's not enough, send the community into a panic because they saw said messenger being tackled to the ground, cuffed and dragged away_._"

"It would have helped you."

"And put everything else in jeopardy," she reasoned, "It may not sound logical to you, detective, but I have a job to do, a responsibility not only to my clients, but my people as well. The whole debacle would bring in much unwanted attention to me and, in effect, my firm." She brushed her hair back from her face, "I know how it works, detective. I've been in this job long enough. The most my reporting would have done was have it on record and while that would have given your people more papers to file, it would have done little good for me."

"Then what was your original plan?" De Luca asked, "Catch the person yourself?"

"I don't think what I planned extends to the parameter of your investigation, detective," she said, her voice turning formal and cold.

"It doesn't, but I do want to help you, Miss Lockhart," he made sure not to be defensive. He was doing his job and it included not having someone he was investigating killed. "Someone attacked you, but prior to that you had _at least _two people threatening your life. That's a volatile situation and not something you just brush aside."

Diane bristled, "Detective, honestly, I—"

"People thought you were _dead_," the detective said, his voice growing a little harsh. "Now, that may not be much to you, Miss Lockhart, but believe me, with everything _you _have been so keenly hiding in hopes of dealing with them by _yourself_, you're not just putting yourself at risk. People around you could get hurt—friends, family and even people you work with."

De Luca stopped, letting the words sink in as she silently sat on the bed. He could see her mind working, see her absorb the weight of the words spoken so purposefully. He needed her to understand what she was facing and also needed her to see that no matter how tough she was, how much she preferred dealing with things by herself, this time it wouldn't do. She needed protection, needed to let important people know about her situation.

She was stubborn, _very _stubborn and she reminded him of someone specific. It was no surprise to him now how the two gravitated towards each other despite their glaring differences. But that was not a matter De Luca was willing to even acknowledge at the moment. He had come in for a statement, but it seemed he was walking into an altogether separate investigation.

"I read the letters, Miss Lockhart," he said, easing gently into her consciousness, knowing how she'd managed to get herself lost in her thoughts, "And I am telling you, this person, whoever it may be, _is _capable of hurting you. It may not have been Jackson, but that doesn't make it any better and, in fact, makes it worst. Do you realize _how many _people stand as a threat to you _right now_? For a woman, you have _a lot _of enemies, and honestly, that says a whole lot about you."

"That I don't play well with others?" she said, her tone sounding a little harsh.

"Yeah, among other things," De Luca nodded, "Look, I can't force you to file a formal complaint, you know your rights, but I am advising you, Miss Lockhart, to take what happened to you as a warning and start taking precautions. An alarm just won't cut it anymore, not even where you live because it happened _there_."

He shook his head, "If we prove this was Jackson and Jackson _alone_, then the case will be closed—the letters will be admitted into evidence, yes, but if they're not connected, then we're going to have to let it go. File a complaint, Miss Lockhart, before anything else happens. I won't promise anything, but I can promise that _I _will head up the investigation myself if that's what it'll take."

"Practicing beyond due diligence, detective," Diane managed to say, looking away from him. "Though I honestly don't see how this can go beyond _your _business."

"Just doing my job," he said. "Miss Lockhart, please, consider."

"Detective, I know you mean—"

"Spellman is in the wind," De Luca threw in, hoping _this _would at least get some sense into her. He remembered her reaction, or at least, the one she tried to hide, when he'd mentioned the name. The woman was tough and brave, but Jeffrey Spellman had managed to get under her skin. De Luca was more than interested about what exactly she'd gone through with the bastard, somehow, he knew she was more than just afraid of him.

"Wh-what?" she let out a slight gasp, her eyes widening slightly.

"When we were given the information that you had a history with Spellman, we checked him out," De Luca shook his head, "Nobody has seen him since yesterday morning."

"That-that's…impossible," Diane swallowed slightly. "It wasn't him, last-last night, it _wasn't _him…I'm sure of it."

"I know, but the fact that he disappeared on the same day you were attacked," De Luca began, "It raises a few questions. We're hoping to bring him in, see what he knows, check where he's been. Technically, he just violated his parole."

"I…" Diane breathed in, exhaling slowly.

A part of him had known Spellman was the quickest was to break through the woman but he had been reluctant to go that way. He'd saved it for last, just when he knew he was feeling desperate. She wasn't taking him seriously then, now she was going to have to. Whether or not Spellman had something to do with what happened, she was still in fear of him, maybe more so than she currently did the man who had put her in the hospital.

That man, Jackson, was dead and was therefore not a threat anymore, it should alleviate her fear of him, but Spellman was another story. He was an altogether different_ animal _to her.

The bastard had done a number on the woman and it bothered De Luca not knowing just _how _the man did it when Diane Lockhart was practically untouchable. She was well-known for being a woman who seemed to have _no _weaknesses, having taken on all sorts of opponents no matter who, what or where. She was both famous and infamous in the law district, unflappable and with a stellar reputation and an impressive career. A real ball-breaker, De Luca remembered describing her at one point.

And yet, it only took one bastard of a drug dealer to change her, though she hid it well. Spellman had done a good job, immersing himself into her psyche, transforming himself into _her _Achilles heel. He was the weakness nobody knew about, the dark, ominous cloud in Diane's world.

"Miss Lockhart?" De Luca said, careful not to startle her. The woman looked almost lost for a moment, a part of him actually felt bad for doing this to her even though it _had _to be done.

She looked at him, her eyes appearing almost haunted for a moment. Diane did not know what to say. From all corners, it seemed her enemies were rising. She didn't know who she had fought, but somehow, in the horizon, the threat she had been _expecting _loomed yet had not come. But the fact that Spellman had somehow broken free of his newer, freer cage, it struck a chord of fear within her. She was afraid of him, she truly was. She'd been in his mind, witnessed just how cruel he could be, how sadistic he was.

He had stopped being human to her a long time ago, which could have also been a contribution to how his case had ended. Spellman was as close to evil as Diane had ever witnessed. He was a good actor, charming even, but behind those gray eyes had been an angry creature. He'd bludgeoned two people after a drug deal gone wrong, but managed to make it look like self-defense. He lost the case, but got the possibility of parole in the deal.

Diane had never, in her entire life, been more relieved when he'd been taken away, screaming about his injustice and promising there would be hell to pay.

And they had let him go, now, he was really gone, out of the police's reach. God only knew where he was, knew what was going on in his head. He had promised he would kill her, make her suffer. Diane was terrified, knowing how intent he was still on fulfilling those promises.

"Consider taking protection, Miss Lockhart," De Luca said, his voice rough yet almost comforting, certainly not a norm in his profession, but he could see how the latest news was affecting the woman. She was only human, he would have been more concerned if she managed to brush off _this _as well. "You can start by filing a complaint, think about it. I promise, I will help in any way I can."

She nodded mutely, though she wasn't entirely sure why.

"Say you'll think about it, Miss Lockhart."

Diane turned to face him, her eyes hooded. Nobody had ever given her a lecture like that since her father. She wasn't one to bow to authority easy, especially when she _didn't _have to. He'd been forceful with her, making her face facts she had long been pushing aside. She knew it should infuriate her, but even then, watching his dark eyes survey her, observing her, something inside her couldn't help but _believe _that somehow, this man wasn't just pretending to care.

If there was one thing she wasn't, it was gullible. She didn't fall for acts or theatrics easy and was pretty good at seeing through people, but as the detective's voice echoed in her head, much the same way her father's lectures did, she found a part of herself actually _willing _to trust the man that was, essentially, a stranger to her.

He knew about Spellman, maybe could even guess what a nightmare it had been handling his case. Diane was strangely comforted that someone like him knew. It was different, always different with people who only saw crime on the television. Police officers lived through it, every day of their lives and De Luca had been on the job long enough.

Seemingly beyond her control, Diane found herself nodding slowly, "I will."

And, to her surprise, she meant it.

-o0o-

"I'll see you soon. Thank you."

Will looked up, catching sight of Daniel as he made his way back to where they were sitting. He'd been left alone for the last few minutes, waiting for the detective to come out. He wasn't sure if he was speaking to Diane again, considering he'd been out of his office for the better part of the morning but he at least wanted to let her know he'd be back again when he could.

He was sure he'd left a lot of things hanging in the office, he was sure Kate had once again done a masterful job of moving things around and possibly placating some curious or irate clients. He made a note to do something nice for her soon, he owed her that for today.

"Well, at least that one's not going to be a problem anymore," Daniel said as he sat down in his previous seat. "I've ordered lunch and some things the nurses were sure Danni would be allowed to eat. Will you be joining us?"

"Uh, I'm not sure," Will replied, "I have things to take care of at the office. I'm sure they've been piling up since I left."

"Of course," Daniel nodded, "Are you leaving soon? Because I can tell Danni—"

"No," Will shook his head, "I can wait until they're done, just in case she has some things for me to do or cases to make note of." He shifted slightly in his seat, "So, what did you say won't be a problem anymore?"

It was interesting to the lawyer how it seemed so easy talking to his partner's brother, granted they'd really been acquainted that morning. Still, there was something about the man that made it _easy _to talk to him. Maybe it was because they could relate about a few things they had in common—Diane had kept Will in the dark, just as she had with her brother. It was ridiculous to find comfort in that, but Will did anyway. He was glad he wasn't the only one.

"Oh, I've arranged for my things to be brought to the house," Daniel explained. "I was speaking with our old caretaker, Gloria, poor old bird, she's tough but she just about lost her mind when she heard the news…thank god it didn't kill her."

"Gloria?" he wondered if he'd heard that name from Diane before. Probably not.

Daniel leaned back in his seat, "She used to take care of us when we were children. She was, quite literally, the _only woman_ who did not run away screaming from us—not _once_."

Will grinned, "You used to terrorize nannies?"

That was an image he'd _never _quite imagined to put on Diane, but somehow, it was amusing enough to fit.

"Oh, yes," Daniel grinned, "We were quite good at it. One nanny used to call us the Satan's Twins…of course, she barely lasted a month, that one. Danni was especially fixated on her."

Will snorted as he laughed, "Why?"

"Don't really know," Daniel shrugged, "She just rubbed Danni the wrong way. She was quite nasty, trying to raise us like we were in the military, the crazy woman."

"And what about Gloria?" Will asked, curious that if a military-type nanny couldn't tackle down Diane and her twin, what else could? He'd always imagined Diane was raised in a strict household so a military-inspired nanny would have been the first idea in his mind.

Daniel smiled, a real one. "She was different, right from the beginning. She knew just how to handle us. Right off the bat she seemed to know something none of the other nannies could figure out—while we were twins, Danni and I were two separate beings. Gloria somehow knew to treat us like that so…we didn't mind having her around. She's family now, really. She watched us grow up and everything."

"Sounds like a great woman," Will said, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"Yes, she is," Daniel nodded, "After mother…" he paused, swallowing slightly. "She died when we were ten and our father tried to make it work, but eventually realized he needed help so the parade of nannies came. It wasn't until Gloria that things began to feel…okay again."

Will remained quiet, wondering just how hard it must have been for the two children to lose a parent so young. He was thankful his parents were still alive, even if they were quite far, but it helped knowing they were there. He could only imagine how painful it was for them, especially for Diane, being a girl, to lose a mother.

"She wasn't mother, of course, and Gloria told us she never will be," Daniel continued, "She was honest and she cared so we took comfort in that…it was like finding something else to hold on to, after feeling like we'd lost everything. Even with father around, we still felt like orphans at times…" he shook his head, "But enough of that. If you come by the house, you'll meet Gloria. She's quite lovely and an excellent baker—keeps trying to fatten me up every time I come by!"

Will nodded, understanding the man's need to veer away from the topic. Diane never talked about their mother and, as far as Will knew, she never talked to anyone about her, not even with Stern. Most of the things they'd known about the family were the ones that were public knowledge, just the basic political background and _very few_ personal information.

Of course, he could understand Diane not wanting to talk about her parents, her mother especially. Losing a parent was a wound he knew not even the great Diane Lockhart could just brush aside, something time would never truly heal. In some way, Will could imagine it was something that still brought her pain and he was sorry for that.

"Danni and I will be staying there while she recuperates so it'll be easier for her," Daniel added, "Having Gloria around will surely help—I think she'll be the only one who'll be able to order Danni around effectively."

"So, Gloria's been the one occupying the house?" Will asked. "Your family home here in the city…The Lockhart House?"

"That one," Daniel nodded, "But don't call it that…Danni hates it. She thinks it sounds ostentatious. We basically just call it 'the house' with a lowercase H so she doesn't feel too much like a schmuck."

Will blinked, "Why would…?"

"It's her personal pet-neurosis," Daniel waved his hand dismissively, "One of many, as you can imagine so my best advice would be not to question it and just…go with the flow. It's easier that way, trust me."

"Oh, right," Will nodded, "So…the _h_ouse."

Daniel smiled, satisfied, "It was passed on to Danni, but of course, nobody except Gloria lives there although from time to time, Danni stays there when it's too late to go to the lake. Gloria keeps the place perfect just in case we need it at the last minute."

"Gloria stays alone in the house?" Will hadn't been to the house, but he'd seen it before. It was one of the oldest in Chicago and it was large. The beautiful Victorian brownstone was part of the city's history, having been built around the same time as the Nickerson House that was now known as the Richard H. Driehaus Museum in River North.

"Hm, yes," Daniel answered, "Danni keeps asking her to stay with her by the lake, but the stubborn old bird won't leave the house—it's home for her and we always suspected that somehow, she knows we'll be back someday so she keeps the home perfect…it's like an insane version of loyalty."

"That's interesting," Will smirked.

"Have you ever been to the house?"

"No," Will shook his head. "Diane likes having her parties by the lake."

"Not surprised," Daniel smirked, "The house is…well, it's like a time machine for us. Danni redecorated a few areas, but most of it looks the way it did when we were children. I imagine, basing on what you seem to _not _know about my dear sister, that it's a sort of private dwelling for her." He chuckled slightly, "Huh, my third wife was right…she _is _weird."

Will chose not to comment on the last added thought as he too was beginning to find some oddities in his partner. Sure, Diane had always been somewhat private, but the way Daniel was talking about his sister, Will could barely reconcile her from the woman he worked with practically every day of his life. If it didn't sound too stupid in his head, Will was almost willing to accuse her of living a double life—separating Diane Lockhart the lawyer and Danni Lockhart, sister, daughter and god knew what else.

He'd always known she liked keeping sides of her personality from the world, a sort of coping mechanism in such a tough business, but as he learned more—in only a day, at that—he was beginning to wonder _what exactly _he knew about the woman. She'd always been private, but as the day wore on he was drawing closer and closer into labeling her as a sort of enigma. It was almost disconcerting, this woman. Will wanted to ask, _'Who _are _you?'_

"So, you talked Diane into staying at the house?" Will asked, "I mean, her house is a crime scene right now…"

"We'll discuss it later," Daniel answered, frowning. "But I don't see any other choice considering, er, the state of her home." He raked a hand through his hair, "She won't like it, but she'll see reason…hopefully."

"She loves her house," Will reminded, "She loves being by the lake."

"Yes, if anything, that's one more thing that son of a bitch—whoever he may be—will be paying for," Daniel growled slightly.

Will nodded, "I spoke with Kalinda."

"Ah, your Bond girl," Daniel wiggled his eyebrows, "Amazing woman."

Will ignored that comment as well, "She's been investigating the case…under the radar."

"Sounds thrilling," the older man grinned happily, "God, that woman…"

"—the police found a body this morning," Will continued as if he wasn't being interrupted. "It's an ongoing case and I know the perils of telling family, but this information seems _safe_…considering that the man they found is dead."

The grin faded from Daniel's face, "What man?"

"They think they have the man who attacked Diane," Will said, his face serious and his hands lacing together in front of him, "He's dead."

Daniel's face hardened, his hands curled into tight fists and his eyes grew dark, "Dead?"

Will nodded, "Yes."

Daniel gritted his teeth, "Lucky son of a bitch."

-o0o-

"…yes, I appreciate that. Thank you."

Alicia hung up, leaning back against her seat as she eyed the papers on her desk. She'd spent the last few minutes speaking with George Howard's assistant. Her new client, Erica Howard, was the daughter of one of the richest families of Chicago. Her father was a well known business tycoon who mainly known for buying out companies and remaking them, usually tearing them down and rebuilding them into a newer, better and more profitable venture.

Howard Industries had begun with hotels back in the nineties until they branched out into corporate takeovers. Their first venture had been the Tolliver Publishing House and they'd torn it down after buying, remade it, changed the name to _The Script House_ and turned it into one of the biggest publishing houses it was today. From then, Howard Industries only continued to grow and George Howard had been the genius behind it all.

And that was how Alicia knew Diane's reason for taking the case. It wasn't hard to imagine, represent the daughter, get her the best possible deal _and _possibly impress the father. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that the senior partner of Lockhart & Gardner had definitely found a way into bagging a _big, big _client and, in effect, save the firm.

Alicia didn't know exactly _how _Diane managed to get the daughter as a client, but she was willing to acknowledge that the plan was good. They already had a few batches of layoffs, getting Howard Industries' attention was definitely a good way to start regaining their loss after Stern's departure _and _avoid doing any more cuts. With the economy it was these days, _everyone _was desperate for something and the firm was desperate for a client like Howard.

With a renewed goal that definitely gave her _a lot _to look forward to, Alicia set to work. She was going to work round the clock to get Erica the best possible defense she could get—they _were _suing for police brutality and illegal arrest, after all so it wouldn't be too hard, but _still_, she needed to make sure everything would be done with excellent results. If this was going to take them one step closer to reviving the firm, then Alicia was willing to do _everything _she could do make sure it happened.

In the back of her mind, a voice taunted her once again that she was _becoming _a _real _lawyer. This case, it wasn't _just _the client anymore, now it was the_ money_ the client could bring. She ignored those thoughts, mainly because the more they taunted her, the more she was tempted to grab her things, leave and _never _come back. She liked doing her job, she liked _doing _a good job, but what Alicia did not like about the whole thing was the process of losing her humanity.

It made her feel terrible, feel like she was selling her soul to the devil. She was a good person, had been raised to be one but with the job, what it was doing to her, Alicia didn't want to be that person—it wasn't her. In her mind, she could hear the taunting, pulling at her, mocking her. How could she love doing something that was ultimately changing her? She was smart with a lot of potential and she could do anything, but Alicia _liked _being a lawyer and she was _good _at it. Also, despite the _evil_ and the bad hours, the money was good and she had a family to keep up.

Shaking her head slightly, Alicia ignored the doubts and the second-third-tenth thoughts. She had a case to do and with everything that was possibly hanging on to it, she needed to focus. Who cares if her soul was turning black? She was a lawyer, basically, the moment you get your degree and your first job, you just _turn _black, especially if you work for the 'bad people'.

Either way, there was a no win in sight except keeping her family fed, comfortable and together and to Alicia, that was _all _that really mattered.

The rest was just baggage.

-o0o-

"Lucky?"

"Yes, because otherwise, he would have had _me _to deal with," Daniel snarled.

Will nodded, "You'd have killed him?"

"Kill? No," Daniel smirked, "Did I mention I have…_friends_ overseas?"

"What…kind of friends?" Will asked, his curiosity getting the best of him. The look on the man's face was enough to tell him his _friends _were better off not knowing about, but Will was too interested to pass. They were siblings, but Will was starting to see the differences between Daniel and Diane, despite the glaring similarities they shared.

Diane already had trouble accepting a drug lord for a client, but the look on Daniel's face told Will he wouldn't have a problem with it _if _he was in the same position. The man, like Diane, was an enigma, thought an entirely different kind. Will decided it must have been some eerie genetic family trait.

"Friends who will do me favors," Daniel shrugged, "I can be _very _persuasive. Women in general call it charm, my ex-wives call it manipulation."

"Diane can be persuasive as well," Will nodded, "Must be a family trait."

"Yes, it must be," Daniel nodded, "Oh, if I had that bastard I could have had him castrated and sent back with a bow tied around him like a present in a day or two."

Will raised his eyebrows, "Really."

"I'm good at picking my friends," Daniel shrugged, "They offered before, but I turned it down. This would have been a great way to test loyalties."

"Sounds illegal," Will mused.

"Not in the country where the favor will be coming from," Daniel smiled devilishly. "I mean, it's practically a ritual of sorts down there."

Will blinked once, trying to gauge whether the man was serious or not. The twinkle in his eyes suggested he may be pulling his leg, but the set of his jaw and the overall dark look that appeared on his face said otherwise. He's been so caught up trying to figure out the man, he jumped when his phone began to vibrate in his pocket, "Uh," he looked at Daniel, "Work…I-excuse me."

Daniel smiled, "Sure."

He'd been amused watching the lawyer figure out whether he was some sort of hitman-hiring whackjob who happened to be related to his partner. It was fun playing with minds like Will Gardner's. He was the perfect blend of a man with a dark side who wanted to do good and yet was tempted to do _bad _if it would benefit him—a conflicted piece of human being, for sure and really quite fitting for some games Daniel liked to play.

Not that he did it for fun, he also liked studying human behavior. He just happened to learn a few ways to make it more fun. Yes, he liked Will very much. Diane had been so sure he wouldn't, but he did. Granted, she probably didn't expect him to like Will that way and would, most probably, be very displeased at what he was doing, but who cares? What his sister didn't know couldn't make her want to kill him. He was safe, for now.

Daniel smiled like a kid on Christmas.

Thankful for the interruption, Will stood up, answering his phone as he headed down the hall, passing Diane's door as he went. He nodded at the guards who had denied him access, choosing not to vent out his frustrations at being kept outside, knowing they weren't the ones to be blamed. They were doing their job, a job he had insisted someone do to keep Diane safe. He really hadn't count on being the one to be kept _away _from her, that's all.

"What's up?" he asked, leaning against the wall when he was far enough.

"I just got off the phone with Diane's new client, sort of," Alicia's voice came through. "A date has been set on the 15th next month."

"That's good," Will nodded, "Anything else?"

"Uh, yeah, the reason I called…" she paused, "Her client is Erica Howard."

"Yes, I know," Will replied, "I read the file…at least, a small part of it."

"Did you know she's Erica Howard as in Howard Industries?"

"What?"

"Her father is George Howard."

"…you're kidding," Will said, eyes wide as he glanced back at Diane's door, "You're saying Diane's activist client is the daughter of one of the richest men in Chicago _and _soon to be the rest of the country?"

"Yes, I am," Alicia answered. "You didn't know?"

"I-I didn't," Will said, running his hand through his hair. "Diane never…she never said a thing."

"Maybe she wanted to make sure she got the case before—"

"We _argued _about it last night," Will inserted, "I was reaming her down for taking the case, for-for putting things with Wentworth & Lennox in jeopardy. The size of Howard Industries has to be _nine _times _bigger _than them!"

"Will—"

"And she never said _a thing_."

"Maybe she—"

"I mean, I was right_ there_!"

"Will, stop it."

"What?" Will rumbled, clenching one fist tightly while the other one held on to his phone tighter, "What, Alicia? She didn't say a thing. She just…let me yell

Alicia didn't say anything for a moment, "I know you're feeling guilty and this probably didn't help, but I merely called to let you know that, well, somehow, Diane has found some way to help the firm. I was updating you, Will, nothing more. I didn't call to add to your guilt."

"Well, whether intentional or not, it's there," Will mumbled, "God…I'm an ass."

"Yes, you are."

"Hey."

"Sometimes," she rolled her eyes. "Will, just…Diane did her job, that's it. You did yours—you thought one of the firm's biggest clients was being threatened, you reacted and she accepted and retaliated. Nothing else, okay? It's all just…a misunderstanding."

"You're feeding me the same lines as De Luca."

"No, I'm not," she disagreed, "I fed _him _lines and they were _lines _because it was my job and I couldn't let my boss go to jail. Right now, I'm just pointing out the truth to _you_. It was a misunderstanding, Will, a real one."

"Somehow, that's not making me feel better."

"Have you talked to Diane?"

"A bit," he slipped his hand in his pocket, feeling the hand he'd clenched tightly beginning to throb against the soft lining of his pants.

"Was she angry?" her voice turned soft, ready to provide solace if she had to.

"No, quite the opposite, actually," he sighed, "I apologized, but she rejected it. She said I had nothing to be sorry for."

"See?"

"No," Will shook his head, "It doesn't make it better, Alicia."

Alicia sighed deeply, "Well…you know what, Will? Right now, I don't think there's anything that will make this better."

"Yeah," Will paused, nodding slightly. "I have to go. Daniel was talking about having that dead guy castrated if he'd been picked up a live and we're waiting for De Luca to finish with Diane."

"You let Diane talk to Detective De Luca alone?" Alicia asked, surprised. Not that she didn't trust the detective as he'd been surprisingly pleasant at the station, but she had expected Will to be all over things, especially regarding things directly involved with Diane.

"No, she let _herself _talk to De Luca alone," he answered, "She barred us from her room."

"Oh," was all Alicia could say, then her mind reminded her of something that had caught her attention prior, "Wait. Did you say 'castrated'?"

"Mhm," Will glanced at Daniel who was, once again, on the phone. "Apparently, he knows people…from other countries who'll do him a favor."

"Sounds like a fun guy," Alicia said dryly. "This is Diane's brother, right?"

"Yeah," Will nodded, "He's quite a character."

Alicia chuckled, "Is he anything like Diane?"

"It varies," Will shrugged, "He's open to hiring a hitman thought."

Alicia paused, "…okay. He sounds interesting."

Will chuckled, "He kind of is and one thing is for sure though, he's definitely not as for the family cause as Diane is with gun control."

"I bet that makes one happy Thanksgiving," Alicia said wryly, "Okay, I'll update you later if I can manage to get in contact with Erica Howard or anyone from her family directly."

"Yeah. Good luck."

"You too. Don't pick a fight with Diane."

Will frowned, "Did you talk to Kalinda?"

It couldn't be a coincidence.

"Not recently, why?"

"She said the same thing," he pointed out, "She told you to say that, didn't she?"

"No," Alicia drawled out, sounding a little confused, "It's just…"

"Just what?"

"Something you _do_," Alicia finished, "You do that, Will, and it's not good. Especially not right now."

Will rolled his eyes slightly, "Alicia…"

"I'm serious. You pick fights when you're upset. You do it with Diane all the time."

He frowned, "Not _all _the time."

"Fine," she said. "Most of the time."

"Oh, come on," he rolled his eyes, unable to believe even _this _woman was telling him something that was totally ridiculous.

"Will, I'm sorry, it's true," she smiled, "But you make up for it…in your own way so you're fine."

"Gee, thanks."

"You're welcome, now, I have to go," she said, chuckling slightly. "I've got a case, I've updated you and…if you are going to talk to Diane about this, don't pick a fight. Okay, that's it."

"That's it?"

"Yeah. Later."

"Later," he deflated further. This was ridiculous and unfair yet she chuckled anyway, most likely she was laughing _at _him.

"Bye," she said then hung up, leaving Will leaning against the wall, wondering if the two women had been right. He hadn't noticed he was picking fights, but then, he remembered he tended to run into rooms ready for battle. He sighed, wondering if maybe they were right. Did he really pick fights? Him?

Will shook his head, wondering maybe it was time to listen. His approach with Diane hasn't really been working as of late, coming in storming and screaming at each other, while good for letting out some steam, only ended badly for them both. In the past, that approach may have worked, but they didn't have as much reasons to fight back then, unlike now.

Things were different and facing a financial problem of this magnitude was a first for them both and they would _never _dare admit it, but they were both afraid. They'd poured so much into their firm, sacrificed so many things and opportunities, they would have be out of their minds to let it all just slip away. They were going to fight—together. Yes, Will decided, the best way to get through things was to work together. They were partners, after all.

It was no secret they had different views on certain things, but they had _one _common goal and that was to keep the firm. Will was willing to do _everything _just to do that, starting with forming better ways on how to communicate with Diane. The less they fought with each other and focused more on their problems, the better. Yes, that was a good idea.

Facing a new side of himself, Will pushed himself off the wall, feeling a little proud. He was growing, or at least, maturing and he was willing to compromise and watch his temper more. He would help Diane through things, talk about the story behind Erica Howard and try very hard not to end up yelling at each other. Will smiled slightly, he was growing up—_a little._

Now, all he had to do was show them.

-o0o-

Kurt looked up, just in time to catch a white van pulling up on the side of the hospital. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out it was a news van, especially when that reporter from Channel 9 stepped out looking dolled up and ready to go. Shaking his head, he stood up. Whatever thoughts he may have been hoping to scare up, it was gone now. He couldn't do much at the moment but he could definitely warn the people upstairs about the latest development.

He'd worked enough times in Chicago to figure out that as soon as one came, the rest would follow. The media was relentless that way, the moment they smelled fresh game and the case with Diane definitely was. Now, the circus was officially beginning.

Making his way towards the entrance, he headed back up the stairs again, intent on giving himself a few more—well, not really. Since he was being honest, he might as well admit he needed just a few more moments to summon up the courage to _maybe _see Diane. A nagging part of him told him he was there already, he'd come far enough to leave without seeing her. Of course, he still hadn't counted out the possibility of her not wanting to see him, but he was willing to take a gamble.

Emerging from the door, Kurt stepped into the main area of Diane's floor. He looked around, catching sight of her brother as he sat in the waiting room, fiddling with his phone. Squaring his shoulders, Kurt strode forward, willing to wipe the memory of their first encounter out of his mind. Not that it was entirely possible, since the damned magazines were _right there _in front of the man.

He couldn't very well just walk without acknowledging the man could he? The man was Diane's brother and technically, if she didn't throw him out, _he _could and depending on _what _type of brother he was, well, Kurt wasn't sure about he reaction he was going to get if the man found out he slept with his sister.

Kurt stopped. God, how high school did that sound? He was definitely not feeling his best today, seeing as he'd managed to embarrass himself in front of himself, if that even made sense.

Shaking his head slightly, he nodded a polite and silent hello to a couple of nurses at their station as he passed by and made a beeline towards the hall leading to Diane's room. Since he had no idea how to address the man, he'd leave it up to him to notice him passing by. Either way, Kurt was going to walk and pretend he didn't see the tall man sitting in the waiting area.

He was pretty sure childish and stupid tactics worked, sometimes.

"Oh, hey, Kurt, right?"

Well, not all the time, but at least this showed the guy was friendly.

Kurt turned, "Oh, hey. Dan, right?"

"Daniel, yeah, but you can call me Dan," the man stood up, stretching his long legs as he stuffed his phone into his pocket. "My sister is still with the detective, seems like they have a lot to talk about. You can wait with me, if you want." He smiled, "I wouldn't mind getting some dirt on my sister to tease her with later."

"Oh, I don't think I'm the guy you wanna get that information from," he replied, waving a hand slightly dismissively though not in a rude way.

Daniel chuckled, "Very well."

"I need to, uh, speak to the detective," Kurt motioned to the door with his thumb.

"You know the detective?"

"Yes, uh, we came here together," Kurt answered.

Daniel nodded, "All right, but good luck trying to get in. Will tried to play his lawyer card, didn't even get through the guards."

Kurt glanced at Will who was down the hall. He wondered if he hadn't left that area since he left though didn't really know why he should care. The man was busy, that was for sure. "I'll just pass on the message, I'm sure that's allowed."

"Eh, good luck," Daniel shrugged.

"Thanks," Kurt muttered and headed towards the guards. He gave them the information, stressing that it was important seeing as it wouldn't take more than half and hour to have the front of the hospital surrounded by the media. The vultures were circling, De Luca needed to know that.

Nodding slightly, the uniform knocked on the door, waited and came face to face with the detective as he stood there with a questioning and disapproving look on his face.

"What?"

"Sir, Mr. McVeigh—"

"Where?" De Luca stepped out, catching sight of Kurt with a raised eyebrow.

"Media's here," Kurt tilted his head towards the front of the hospital, "Channel 9 just pulled up. The rest won't be far behind."

"Ah, damn," De Luca muttered, "We're almost done here."

"What do you want us to do about it, sir?" the police officer asked.

"I'll get someone at the station, those vultures need to be kept out," De Luca answered, "Last thing we need is a bunch of word-slingers cluttering the halls here. Keep them out."

Nodding slightly, Kurt went back to the waiting area taking the seat across Daniel who was smirking at him, "So, safe to say you have some…_connections_ with the local law enforcement."

"We've worked together a few times," Kurt retorted.

"The humble man indeed," Daniel proclaimed, "So, Will told me you worked with my sister…how exactly do you know her? I mean, do know her outside of work?"

He didn't waste time, that was for sure, Kurt thought as he straightened slightly in his seat. Man, how high school was this? The only difference was he was facing the brother though he was sure that was due to the fact Diane's father had already passed.

"We talked a few times, when we finished a case," Kurt tried to act nonchalant, "She's an interesting woman."

Daniel raised an eyebrow, "Is she?"

"She is," Kurt nodded. "I mean, our beliefs clashed, but it made some interesting conversations."

"Clashed?" Daniel echoed then his eyes widened, "Oh." He grinned, "You're a Republican."

Kurt nodded, "Yes, I am."

Daniel began to laugh, "Oh, boy. I bet she got a kick out of you."

The other man cleared his throat, "Uh, I guess."

What was he supposed to say? That she got more than a kick? God, this was not going to end well, Kurt was so sure of it.

"Excellent!" Daniel clapped his hands slightly, "I bet it was like a cage match. I mean, god, my sister will do just about _anything _to spark some sort of debate with your people. Amazing. Tell me, did-did you come into the firm or were you hired?"

"Will hired me," Kurt shrugged, quite puzzled as to the clear amusement the other man was having. He seemed to enjoy imagining his sister locking horns with him.

"Perfect," Daniel chuckled. "Oh, now you _really _have to stay."

"Pardon me?"

"My sister…uh, she bounces back easily—very resilient, but," he waved a finger slightly, "_If _she had some sort of, I don't know, _bait_, for want of a better word, it'll drive her on faster. Oh, this is great, really. You must stay. I've just ordered some lunch from _Lorenzo_. My sister loves their food so, would you stay? Please?"

"Uh, thanks, but I think that should be up to Diane," Kurt mumbled, wondering if he was even comfortable with being used as _bait _to get Diane to recover faster. He sensed her brother must be something like an eccentric, willingly bringing in an antagonizing figure to spur his sister on to getting better faster. It was strange, though almost intriguing.

"Yes, yes, of course," Daniel agreed, "But if she _does _allow you to stay, would you?"

"Sure," Kurt said, though he was pretty sure he was going to get the boot.

That was fine. He really didn't want to explain to her brother why she wouldn't want them there. That would open a whole can of worms he wasn't ready to deal with anyone except her so it was better if Diane kicked him out and get him an easy leave and, of course, explain to her brother why. Cowardly, but Kurt was treading uncharted waters. It was better if he stayed out.

"Perfect," Daniel said happily, "Now…this is going to sound rude, maybe, but I _have _to ask."

"Go ahead," Kurt motioned with his hand.

"I mean, I was never really one who had a handle on restraint so, I can't help myself…" Daniel's head wobbled slightly as he rolled his eyes, "That was more my sister's expertise, you see."

"I see," Kurt nodded, "Ask."

"Alright…I just wanted to know," Daniel leaned forward.

Kurt mimicked his movement and he could detect a gleam in the man's eyes and he was sure this was going to be an interesting question. He hoped the man wouldn't ask if he was seeing his sister. Anything but that, he thought.

"Do you dress like this _everyday_?"

-o0o0o0o0o0o-

I have to admit, I honestly thought you guys were going to react to the last part of Chapter 9, but alas, I was wrong.

Anyway, I don't know what to say about this chapter…so, if you guys have the time, could you at least try and let me know what you think? That would be great, thanks.

_**Note:**_

_**To Ellie:**_  
I honestly thought the scene with Diane and De Luca was over, but somehow, it got extended into this chapter. I'm so glad I didn't dare make any promises—this latest tweak shifted the timeline of the story again. I hope it didn't make things crappier, though. *sigh* Someday, I'm definitely sure I'll drive myself into a brain aneurism easy. I hope you liked this one.

See? I brought the cowboy back, granted he still hasn't talked to Diane, but soon, I promise, soon. Oh! And keep your theories on Matthew going, it's such fun to read the possibilities! And as for the first ex-Mrs. Daniel Archer Lockhart III…well, she's quite the character. Her broomstick will touch down…soon. Haha.

Oh, man, you are just wonderful…you keep telling me I'm doing fine with Kalinda. What a relief! She's hell to write, I am telling you! She drives me nuts, that woman. *sigh* I'm closing my mouth and taping my fingers on who she was talking to. Shhh…

And, finally, Overby. God, what a let down. I honestly thought a lot of people would react to him, but I was so wrong. Yikes! Still, I am so glad you picked up on so much about that scene though. I'm planning on bringing him back—can't very well just leave it at that, can I? He was a jackass…but what a useful jackass!

Anyway, sorry for the once again messy reply—I'm so sleepy, but I wanted to update so bad (_a first, I am telling you!_) so I hope you'll forgive me!

Thanks for being awesome, Ellie! I hope I don't end up boring you. lol

_**To annaflower:**_  
Thanks for reviewing! I am definitely going to keep on writing as long as you guys keep on reading…and thank you, it's always a relief when someone tells me I haven't screwed up the characters yet. lol Thanks!

And as for your request…will definitely consider. *smiles*

_**To EVERYONE:**_  
Do I have to beg for your reaction? Really…should I chuck out dignity along with my sanity right now? The sanity—I barely had that—but dignity, I think I have that, but hey, I'll throw it overboard if that'll get a reaction out of you guys.

Review, if you can…if you're still reading.

Thanks.

**PS - **_unedited chapter...mainly because I am sleepy and exhausted so if I do find typos, maybe I'll fix it later. If you guys do...well, if you point it out, I'll fix that too._


	11. Chapter 11: Let the Reigns Go Loose

**Blackout**  
by: raileht  
**  
****Summary:** It was over. The fight in her was almost completely out and she was nearing total exhaustion. She was about to die.  
**Disclaimer: **The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.  
**Rating: **T, to be safe

**Spoilers/Timeline:** post-finale but I've omitted some facts and scenes to better fit the story and you'll figure out which ones I hadn't included along the way. But if you have questions, just ask.  
**Warning: **Bad words and a lot of violence right from the start. Will be a somewhat dark story so people will be in pain—physical and emotional. Maybe not for the faint hearted.  
**Warning#2: Coming back after a long pause in writing so...crap alert.**

**Note: **Sorry for the wait—Did anyone even notice this story hasn't been updated in a while? I'm curious. I hate me. This took a LONG time to write…don't know why. I just suck, is all.

**OH! And things might start out rough here (and end rough as well)…I'm just getting back into writing again after such a long pause so this may be…crappier than my usual. Don't say I didn't warn you, 'kay?**

**Chapter Title taken from:  
**The Get Up Kids,  
_Let the Reigns Go Loose_

-o0oo0oo0o-

**Chapter Eleven: Let the Reigns Go Loose**

Detective Tony De Luca stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him quietly with a nod to the uniforms standing by. He was ready to leave, having gotten everything he needed and more. He had managed to convince Diane Lockhart to consider filing—that was more than he'd believed he'd accomplish. The rest was up to her and De Luca only hoped his words would sink in deep enough to talk some sense into her. Strong women could be such a pain sometimes.

He headed towards the waiting area and found Kurt McVeigh and Daniel Lockhart, catching the latter's question just in time, "Do you dress like this everyday?"

He entered, not bothering to give Kurt time to answer with a slight clearing of his throat, "Mr. Lockhart?"

Daniel stood up, straightening his somewhat rumpled button down, "Detective."

"I'm sorry you weren't included in the inquiry, but your sister—"

"Is pigheaded, but that's not your fault," Daniel finished for him with a slight shrug, "Did you get what you needed?"

"For now, yes," De Luca nodded, "I see you've met Mr. McVeigh?"

Daniel smiled slightly, "Yes, yes. We've been talking. He's worked with my sister, dropped by for a visit."

De Luca met Kurt's eyes and could tell immediately _something_ happened. He was on the job, but seeing the whole situation from an altogether different angle, his interest was piqued. De Luca knew Kurt enough to read the signs—the man wanted to be _anywhere_ but there and for a moment, De Luca wondered if the brother knew just _who _his friend was to his sister.

Observing the atmosphere of the area, De Luca guessed correctly that he didn't. At least, not _yet_. Kurt was still standing, Daniel was too friendly and, on top of that, nobody was missing a tooth or nursing a throbbing jaw. Nothing pointed towards the male Lockhart knowing.

But even though that was the case, it did nothing to explain why Kurt was standing just a little stiffer than usual with his jaw clearly set so tight, De Luca was sure his teeth must have been grinding uncomfortably.

It would have been easy to just right out assumed that maybe Kurt didn't want to be there simply because the brother of the woman he slept with was right there, but instinct told the seasoned detective that there was _something _else. The poker face was there, but De Luca could see through the cowboy too easily. Something happened.

"You know what?" Daniel began, clapping his hands once as he looked from the detective to Kurt, "I'd like to discuss a few things with Detective De Luca here," he turned to Kurt, "Why don't you visit with my sister for a bit? I'm sure you'd prefer to visit her alone?"

"Uh…" Kurt looked at De Luca who, to his dismay, began to nod.

"Yeah, you know what?" De Luca raised a finger, "That's, ah, a good idea. Miss Lockhart, at the moment, is alone in her room and I'd be more than glad to answer Mr. Lockhart's questions, which I'm sure he has."

"Quite a few," Daniel nodded.

"That's not really necessary—" Kurt began, only to be interrupted from behind.

"Sorry, about that," Will joined the conversation, "Detective, done with Diane?"

De Luca nodded, "Yes, I was just about to discuss a few things with Mr. Lockhart about the case and we think Mr. McVeigh here could benefit from a visit with Miss Lockhart since he's currently _not _involved with the investigation."

Will nodded, "That's a good idea," he smiled at Kurt, "I'm sure Diane will be glad to see you."

Before Kurt could say anything, Daniel had managed to beat him once again, "Well, that's settled then. Mr. McVeigh?"

Kurt looked at De Luca again, mentally conveying to him that _he _was going to _really_ shoot _him_ the first chance he could get. The old bastard was playing a funny little game and Kurt was not enjoying it _at all_. What was he supposed to do now? Kurt nodded tightly, gritting his teeth as he managed to just say, "Yeah…thanks."

"Perfect," Daniel smiled.

Tucking his hands in his pockets, Kurt began to walk away, shooting a glance at De Luca who managed to smile at him briefly with a very much present twinkle in his eyes. Right then, Kurt decided that _yes_, he was going to kill the old goat. He'd basically screwed him over, the traitor.

Kurt hadn't been far enough as he heard Daniel say, "Interesting man, isn't he?"

He stopped, just in time to hear De Luca reply, "You have no idea."

"Jackass," Kurt muttered to himself.

And kept on walking.

-o0o-

Alicia was sitting in her office, contemplating on whether or not to go to the hospital. She still hadn't received a call back from anyone in the Howard camp, but she was going to have to wait. She was scheduled for a meeting, but so far wasn't sure who she was going to encounter. Alicia was going to be the daughter's lawyer, but she had yet to meet her and she sincerely hoped she would be able to, soon. Erica's first appearance wasn't set for a few more weeks, but Alicia wanted to get a head start, at the very least.

The case was easy, that much was certain, but she couldn't ignore the fact _who _she was representing. With things like this, the importance of the client, the name and the possible attention it might get, one could never truly know how the courts would decide. The law was the law, but judges and courtrooms were about as fickle as anything in the world.

"Hey," startled, Alicia looked up, surprised to see Kalinda back at her door.

"Hey, I thought you were out," she replied, pushing her folders aside.

Kalinda nodded, "Take a walk with me."

"What?"

"Lunch," she watched as the Asian woman's eyes darted to the side, mostly trying to catch a glimpse of who might be around her and Alicia knew this offer was not at all random.

She nodded, "Sure, let me just tell—"

"I already told her," Kalinda jerked her head in the general direction towards where Alicia's assistant, Courtney, was position. "You haven't got anything scheduled, Will is still in the hospital and Julius is…around, trying to catch up on Diane's cases."

Alicia suppressed the urge to shake her head at woman's unparalleled efficiency and that never ending air of mystery that surrounded her, "Okay. Let's go."

Kalinda nodded, "I know a place."

The lawyer could only follow, half-amused at the investigator's ways and half suspicious of what place she had in mind as she grabbed her purse. She knew better than to think Kalinda was like most people and judging from the way her eyes seemed darker than usual and how she made sure to watch if people had taken interest in their activities, there was something to this lunch.

Alicia only hoped they were _really _going to eat, realizing just how hungry she was getting. But that hope went down the drain when they stepped into the elevator and the other woman, her hands tucked into her pockets, immediately pressed the button to close the doors and said, "I found out a few things today."

She made a mental note to send a text to her assistant and have her ready a salad for her when she returned. Something told Alicia this lunch was going to be _very _interesting and it wasn't going to be necessarily about food.

"Like what?" she asked, though something told her she wasn't going to get a clear answer. Mysteriousness was just one of the many things her friend was a master at.

Kalinda turned her eyes upwards, watching the numbers change as the car descended and didn't spare her a glance as she answered, "Things."

Alicia nodded and decided that, yes, she was definitely was going to eat lunch much, much later. And she couldn't deny that she didn't mind, her interest having been piqued and had began to feel somewhat excited about being let in on what the Asian woman was doing.

It wasn't often, but it always yielded results and, though she wouldn't dare admit it, it made her life just a little more interesting. She wasn't much for taking risks—it wasn't something she was inclined to do, not with her career, her children and with the aftermath of her husband's scandal still firmly etched in the memories of people hanging in the balance.

She curled her lips at the corners as she nodded, hanging on to the strap of her purse on her shoulder, "Okay then."

As long as they don't get arrested or come close to that, Alicia was going to be fine with whatever her friend was up to because, yes, Kalinda Sharma definitely knew how to make Alicia Florrick's life interesting.

And she didn't mind at all.

-o0o-

Watching the door close, Diane sat back against the pillows piled behind her, letting out a breath as, finally, she was alone. She looked around, eyeing the room and felt the uneasiness creep in.

The place was alien to her, she knew nothing about it. She'd always been careful, always the type to make sure she didn't end up in hospitals because, frankly, she hated them. She hated the typical white walls, the somber atmosphere and, most of all, the possible history each and every room might hold for God knew how many people.

Hospitals, in Diane's mind, was a source of pain, loss, grief and death. Those were things she tended to avoid and preferred not to acknowledge. She'd had enough of those in her life already—she didn't need to be reminded by being encased in the damned place. It was hell, plain and simple and she hated it.

But Diane was a logical person, never one to let emotions drive her and believed she was more emotionally grounded compared to some people. She preferred weighing in facts, assessing situations and strategizing. She didn't like jumping into conclusions and didn't like going into things unplanned. She liked control and, in fact, _craved _it because, in all honesty, she didn't trust a lot of people, at least, not with the important things.

That, and the fact that she'd been let down more times in her life than she would admit to anyone. If she'd learned anything more important in her life, it was the fact that the only person she could _ever _truly count on was herself. Whether she succeeded or failed, she preferred to do so on her own, rather than it be on anyone else's own volition. At least then, she could freely accept her own mistakes and deeds.

Logic and rationalization came in hand in hand in her mind and that wasn't going to change any time soon so as Diane mulled over her situation, she successfully pushed from her mind the _why _and decided to go over to the _how _and _what now?_ Diane knew if she wanted to get through the whole ordeal, especially with the things she'd learned from Detective De Luca, she was going to have to try harder to stay sane. She couldn't lose her grip because somehow she knew if she did, she was going to drown and there would be no one to save her.

So she ignored what she deemed unimportant—like dwelling on why what happened, happened—and focused on the things she _could _control.

Like getting the hellout.

Diane hadn't protested to being asked to stay for a few days, as she knew her brother expected, but it wasn't because she was ready to acquiesce to her doctor's orders. No, that wasn't it at all. Truth was, Diane was waiting for the moment _she _knew she was ready to leave. She didn't need to stay if she didn't have to so, as she sat there, alone in the bed she didn't even want to think about who occupied before her, she mulled over how and when exactly she could leave. She knew her rights, she would sign out against medical advice and that would be it.

She knew how her brother would react and she wasn't fazed at all. They would probably argue and scream at each other, but in the end, she was sure he would relent. Daniel, if anything, could deny her nothing. If she had to, she would manipulate that advantage to make him give in—nasty as it sounded, but this was a matter of salvaging the little left amount of sanity she had left as well as regaining control of her life. Daniel knew and would understand that, she was sure.

Besides, Daniel had never been able to control her, not even when they were kids so why should anything change? Forever and always, she would always be the bossy "little sister".

The same went with Will—Diane just _knew _he was going to object, especially with the state of his mind at the moment. The man was needlessly guilty, for what? She didn't see the point so she didn't see why she should let him dictate what she should or shouldn't do. Guilt was not a good color on Will Gardner and Diane was going to make sure _that_ disappeared. She would start a battle if she had to, if only to banish that wounded and guilty look he wore, despite his efforts to hide them.

For once, his temper would possible serve purpose to Diane. She would use that, if she had to, if only to stop him from being an idiot, which he was being just by staying around the vicinity of the hospital. Diane made a mental note to kick him out—how dare he leave the firm without one of them there? The nerve, she scoffed. She needed him there _and _in top form.

Will had done many things that angered her and even gave her pause at times about being partners with him, but for once, _this _was not his fault and Diane was going to make that clear. God knew he tended to lose focus whenever he was preoccupied with something. Emotions tended to stunt the man as hard as it was to believe and Diane didn't need that at the moment.

Before a certain Junior Associate had come, that had been just a theory in her mind, but for the past few months, Diane knew she'd been right after all. If the matter was important or if the matter could not be banished from his mind easily, it tended to make Will a little dull and made him lose focus. Diane didn't like that, not at all, and now, she didn't want to be the one to cause that to happen with him. She needed her partner now, more than ever, when there was so much damage control to be done.

Speaking of damage control—the thought made Diane glance around the room, spotting the bag her assistant had more than kindly brought to her. Annie was a godsend, she thought, as she reached for the bag on the seat Annie had occupied. She began to check through the things she had, thankful that she remembered to bring another set of clothes to the office after using the previous batch. That would make leaving much, much easier.

Slightly frowning, she pulled out a man's tie from one of the pockets. Diane wondered whose it was for a moment before recognizing the design and smirked when she recognized it to be Will's. The always impeccably dressed Will Gardner, taking off his tie and carelessly tucking it in a bag—so out of character and so amusing at the same time, Diane had to smile.

Deciding she didn't need him complaining later, she folded the crinkled material and placed it properly back in the pocket where she'd found it and continued to check what else she could find. Dismayed, she realized Annie really only brought her clothes and toiletries that were already there. Glancing at the clock on the wall, Diane frowned, realizing it was almost lunch. She wasn't hungry and was, in fact, already feeling rather restless.

Checking the bedside table, Diane spotted the phone. She read the small set of instructions from the panel, pressed the designated number so she would be able to call outside, dialed a familiar number and waited. She hoped the other end would pick up soon.

It did and Diane wasted no time, "Who am I speaking with? Oh, Kevin…? Yes, this is Diane Lockhart…yes, I know…thank you…Kev-Kevin, stop…Kevin?" she suppressed a sigh, wondering what exactly the news had gotten wrong as her normally calm temp began to stutter and babble on the other end, sputtering at the sound of her voice.

Kevin Cavanaugh was reliable, calm and was the typical Mr. Reliable in the assistant pool with a somewhat shy yet productive personality. Whenever Annie was out, he was the one Diane preferred to have as a substitute mainly because he didn't cower _too much_. Today, though, that was different.

_People thought you were dead_, De Luca's words echoed in her mind and Diane bit the inside of her cheek, crossing an arm on her midsection as she once again tried to stop her assistant from sputtering, tilting her head to the side as she held the phone to her ear. She was tempted to tell him to shut up, but she respected her employees too much to do that. She just wasn't the type.

So she resorted to using her ever reliable authoritative tone, "Kevin. Stop."

And the other man on the end ceased and Diane could swear she heard him swallow nervously.

"Better," she nodded slightly, "I need you to do a few things for me…"

Propped up in a hospital bed, surrounded by flower arrangements, dressed in a drab cotton hospital gown and with an arm trapped in a cast, Diane Lockhart was back to business, commanding her assistant's attention as if it was an ordinary day. She spoke in her normal voice, gave him a list of things to do and was clear, direct and succinct.

She was so clear, so focused on to the point the man on the other end of the line wondered if perhaps everyone had gotten the wrong Diane Lockhart. The woman speaking to him sounded _normal_ as if nothing was wrong and she hadn't been viciously attacked only mere hours ago.

Diane kept on speaking, Kevin kept on taking notes, feeling more afraid—and, for want of a better word, creeped out—than ever in his life. The whole thing was surreal, too surreal, but he couldn't find it in himself to say no or question her. The woman could not be human, he thought.

He'd always been intimidated by her, but now, he was flat out scared.

If the woman noticed his discomfort, she didn't show it as she continued with her instructions. She was down, but she was definitely not out and apparently, she didn't care whether people were ready to see her back in the game so very soon.

Her comeback, as surprising as it was, was definitely beginning less than twenty-four hours since everything began. She was ready to go back to work, damn the bandages or whatever else was on her. As long as she had painkillers and maybe a bag of morphine, she was unstoppable.

Work, as far as Diane was concerned, was the best medicine in the world.

-o0o-

"This is _not _lunch."

Alicia stared at the area, wondering now if it had been a good idea to let Kalinda drag her all the way there. As she had predicted, they hadn't gotten food and the lawyer had gotten not one answer to her questions as the woman beside her drove silently.

"Mhm," the Asian hummed slightly, never taking her eyes off the road.

"Kalinda, what are we doing here?" Alicia turned to her friend, somewhat appalled at the situation. She wasn't supposed to be here.

She _didn't _want to be here.

"Checking out some things," was the only reply.

"I…I don't want to go there," Alicia admitted, eyeing the beautiful homes they passed in the calm neighborhood.

"Why not?"

"Because," Alicia paused, "It's an—" she tried to look for the right word, but couldn't find it, "_invasion_ of privacy. It doesn't feel right."

"Why? Because she's your boss or because she was attacked there?" Kalinda gave her a sideways glance, her expression blank.

"Both…or I don't know," Alicia shrugged, "It's _weird_."

"Then stay in the car."

"What am I, five?"

"Then don't stay in the car."

"Kalinda," she said, slightly exasperated. "Are we even allowed there?"

No reply.

"Kalinda?"

"…yeah?"

"Are we allowed to go there?"

The woman thought for a moment, fingers tapping the steering wheel slightly, "We're there to pick up things for our boss…that's allowed."

"It's still a crime scene," Alicia pointed out, "And who said we'll be picking up things?"

"It's cleared at the moment," Kalinda answered, "The powers that be are leaning on this case heavily and a lot of people want this finished as soon as possible."

"You make this sound so political," Alicia muttered.

"It is, in some ways," the woman answered with a slight nod, "But if you were wondering, it's not enough for people to forget about your husband."

"I wasn't."

Kalinda nodded, "It's not illegal."

"I should hope," Alicia shook her head, "What are we doing there?"

"Looking around," Kalinda replied, "I was there this morning…didn't get to see much, but we can get in now. They've swept the scene already."

"That was fast," Alicia commented.

"She's a Lockhart," Kalinda shrugged, "And it's Chicago. It goes hand in hand."

Alicia nodded, though her earlier thoughts and curiosity were slowly starting to surface again. She knew virtually nothing about Diane and her history. Was she important because she came from a political family? Or was it because she was one of the most visible female lawyers? _Or_ was there more? _And _why didn't she follow her family's legacy? Somehow, Alicia could imagine Diane to be the Clinton type—brains, personality, appeal and daring—on paper, she was the perfect political candidate.

Diane had the background and the attitude for it, why didn't she go for politics? Alicia could definitely imagine Diane was brave enough to join politics. Peter himself had made occasional comments about her in the past enough times for Alicia to wonder now that she knew the woman on a professional level.

"Why didn't she run?"

"What?"

Alicia blinked, "Why didn't she run for politics?"

"Diane?" Kalinda glanced at her, "Why would _anyone _run for politics?"

"She…she would be perfect for it," Alicia continued, "Chicago politics can be dirty and vicious, but I've seen Diane work. She can take them, even Childs, I think."

Kalinda smirked, "She can definitely take Childs."

"So why didn't she?"

"I don't know," Kalinda replied honestly. "I make it a point to know information, but never personal thoughts unless it pertains to what I need to find out." She paused, "Finding out why Diane isn't doing secret handshakes in Congress doesn't cover the parameter of anything I need to know."

"But do you know why she's so important, politically even if she _isn't _in politics?"

"She's a good lawyer, a supporter and feminist groups think highly of her," Kalinda answered, "She fights for what's important to them, for what matters to women especially. She's not _in _politics, but she can deal with it well. It's in her blood."

"They seem to feel the need to include her," Alicia pointed out, remembering the profiles, the interviews, the invitations Diane would get. She wasn't the woman's assistant, but people talked and sometimes, even Diane spoke about things like that with Will, sharing a laugh about certain things and discussing Chicago politics now and again.

"Diane supports the causes, supports candidates she believes in," Kalinda answered, ever the diplomat. "I think for her that's enough. Mainly, I think she prefers being a lawyer more."

Alicia nodded, pausing before starting again, "Kalinda?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you have any idea who would do this?" Alicia paused thoughtfully, "I mean, other than Spellman and Jackson."

"You're asking if she has enemies," Kalinda guessed, "Political enemies."

Alicia looked away, "Yes."

"None I've found so far," Kalinda answered, "But there's a possibility she has some."

"Any name come to mind?"

Kalinda looked over at her, "No."

Alicia sat back and waited until, finally, the house they were looking for came to view. It would have been beautiful and peaceful, even breathtaking if not for the police tapes and the tire tracks out front. In a way, the peace that once made the house look more like a home was gone now and to Alicia, the place looked more devastating than anything.

Biting her bottom lip, Alicia couldn't help but feel bad for the owner of the house, if only because she knew what was going to happen in the end, no matter how much anyone would ever try to retain the house's former beauty. She knew all too well what was going to happen, knowing the same thing happened to the home she'd shared with Peter and her children in Highland Park.

It was never going to be home again.

-o0o-

"I've been informed that you _think _you might have caught the guy."

De Luca glanced at Will who nodded at him, "It looks like that at the moment, yes."

Daniel nodded, "He's dead."

It wasn't a question, but the detective nodded anyway.

"How…" Daniel glanced at the door where his sister was in, "How can you be so sure it's him?"

"Evidence," De Luca said simply, "We're still processing, but the more evidence our labs work on, the more it points toward Jeffrey Spellman."

"How did he die?" the male Lockhart asked, his face stony and lacking all the smiles and easy going air he held previously.

"He had a lot of wounds, deep cuts," De Luca motioned to a few parts of his body, "We thinks he got it during the struggle with Miss Lockhart, but what killed him was a bullet to the head. Either way, our coroner suggests with or without the bullet he would have bled to death, seeing as there wasn't any suggestion he was heading to a hospital to get himself treated."

Daniel nodded again, "Name?"

"Jackson," De Luca answered, "Mark Jackson."

"Is he in any way connected with my sister?" Daniel directed the question to both the detective and Will.

"I've checked with the firm," Will shook his head, "Nothing."

"And we're investigating," De Luca added, "So far, we haven't found anything."

"So what you're saying is, this is just some random son of a bitch who, out of all the houses at the Lake, he just unluckily picked hers?"

"We can't confirm that yet," De Luca answered truthfully. "But we will keep looking."

"Better you do," Daniel said darkly, "I want to find out who this bastard is and why he went after my sister. If he knew her, I want to find out how."

"Diane does some pro-bono cases," Will inserted, glancing at Daniel, "I've put a few people in to check whether or not Jackson was connected in _any _way to both her clients and the cases she worked. Chances are, they might be able to find something."

De Luca nodded, "We're working this case, Mr. Lockhart, 'round the clock."

Daniel nodded, "Of course, detective and believe me, I wish you the best of luck…I want to know this man—where he came from, who he worked with and what fucking drove him to doing this."

Will glanced at De Luca who nodded somberly, "Of course, Mr. Lockhart."

"I want to know something though," Daniel said after a brief pause.

De Luca nodded at him, "Go on."

"Would it be possible to see him?"

Will's eyebrows shot up, staring intently at Daniel though decidedly wisely not to say a word.

"Who? Jackson?"

"Yes," Daniel said, resolute.

"He's-he's in the morgue at the moment, but…I don't think you'd want to do that," De Luca said, slowly. He wasn't entirely sure what he was dealing with and he didn't like where this conversation was going.

"That man is on a slab where he tried to put my sister," Daniel rumbled, "I want to put a face to that name. I don't give a damn whether he's dead, alive or rotting."

"Mr. Lockhart…"

"I don't care, just…make it happen," Daniel said, his calm belying the rage that was clearly burning in his eyes. He gave the detective a look before turning away, making no move to say anything else to Will as he headed towards the elevators and stepping in just as it had cleared of all passengers.

Will turned to the detective, "Can you make that happen?"

De Luca nodded, staring at the elevator doors that had just closed, "We can, but what for?"

"He's looking for answers, reasons," Will said, though he was guessing. "He seems to care deeply for Diane."

"It won't do anything good for him to see the guy," De Luca pointed out.

"I don't think he's looking for anything good," Will shrugged.

De Luca shook his head, "He's dead."

Will nodded, "Then you're lucky."

"Lucky?"

"That's one less murder to take care of," Will said simply, following Daniel's footsteps and heading towards the elevator as well.

De Luca watched the man go, standing on the spot and running the entire conversation in his mind. From where he stood, both men had a lot in common, seeing as they seemed to care for the same woman. And yet, observing their actions and words, he was starting to see who he needed to watch more.

If Jackson was working alone, De Luca was fine, but if anything suggested this hadn't been random and someone else was behind the whole thing, the he had a lot to think about. Will Gardner was a lawyer, through and through, and De Luca could not see him going after anyone other than in the route lawyers usually took.

But after speaking with Daniel Lockhart, De Luca saw a problem looming ahead. The man was different, with a dark side just _insisting _to come out. It didn't make matters any better that his sister was the one who'd been attacked. Even the older man could see Daniel was dangerous when provoked and _this _was definitely all the provocation the man needed.

The more he worked on the case, the more De Luca was seeing reasons to worry and for once, he hoped something would go into his favor. He hoped Jackson was alone, he hoped there was no one else and most of all, he hoped he wouldn't have another murder to, as Will had said, _take care of_. The way the case was shaping up, things were looking like it was headed in the way De Luca didn't want it to so his hopes might as well be in vain.

Shaking his head, he sat down, ruminating at the predicament brewing in front of him. This was the story of his life, being handed the most complicated cases. He could handle it sure, but a part of him wondered, could he get through the whole thing without having an innocent man head towards the wrong path in the name of revenge?

As things continued to go, there were more and more players emerging in the game, most of them in favor of Diane Lockhart, but even De Luca could see she had people who were willing to _kill_ for her. She inspired loyalty, that she did, but to the most extreme lengths. It wasn't her fault, of course, somehow, she just knew what kind of people to put in her life—subconscious or intended, De Luca wasn't sure. Either way, someone was about to get hurt if this didn't end soon.

Shaking his head, De Luca pulled out his phone.

He was getting too old for this shit.

-o0o-

Kurt entered the room, expecting to find the woman in bed, yet somehow, when he found it empty, he wasn't surprised it was either. He knew her better, he thought. She wasn't one to stay in bed unless she could help it. At this point, he was sure the doctors were going to have to tie her to the rails if they really needed her to stay put. The woman, if anything, was relentless.

He peeked around the corner and found her leaning against the wall, hand pressed against her stomach with her eyes closed. If he'd found her any other way, he would have hesitated but at that moment, his mind made no room for any other thought than to help her.

"Hey," he said, taking the few steps towards her and carefully placing them on her arm and lower back.

Diane's eyes shot open, taken aback by the sudden presence and jumped. She couldn't stop the loud gasp that escaped her lips nor keep her eyes from widening.

"It's just me," Kurt said, raising his hands up in a sign of surrender, sorry now that he'd surprised her like that. Silently, he berated himself for such a stupid move. "I'm sorry…you looked like you were in pain."

She nodded slightly, breathing in and out, "You just…"

"I know," he said, nodding slightly. "I'm sorry," he carefully touched her again, "Let me help you..."

"Kurt, I…" she turned to him, her eyes meeting his and he had to stop for a moment as he took in the angry bruise that colored the side of her face. He almost pulled back, not because he thought she looked bad, but because he hadn't been prepared to see the evidence of what had been done to her so soon.

Bastards and cowards, he thought, always went for the face.

He felt anger begin to boil in his veins, but he reined it in and instead, continued with his intent to help her. If she noticed him stop, she didn't show it. He hoped she didn't, knowing she could take his hesitation a thousand different wrong ways.

Kurt helped her back to her bed, easing her down and noticing every reaction. If she was getting pain medication, it was wearing off as he could see the way she winced and tried to suppress the urge to vocally react when she started biting the inside of her cheek.

"Where were you going?" he asked as he pulled back the sheet of the bed and allowed her to ease in, sitting up with a pile of pillows behind her.

"Nowhere," she said, quietly. She avoided looking at him and instead, focused her attention on smoothing down the sheets on her lap. "I…you were the last person I was expecting to see."

"Yeah, well…" he muttered, looking away himself. He couldn't look at her, not like that when there were still marks on her face and her body, not when she was acting so unlike herself. This wasn't the woman he knew, not the woman who had laughed at all his stupid jokes and fought him whenever they started to discuss politics. He couldn't look at her, not when he was still too on the edge and unsure of what he would do, what he was capable of doing at the moment.

It didn't matter that the bastard was dead because Kurt still wanted to hurt him.

He was angry for so many reasons but at the same time, he felt the beginnings of self-loathing creep into his soul. Somehow, Kurt blamed himself. This was guilt, it didn't need a right or exact reason why it had to be there, he just knew he blamed himself why she was like this, why she'd been hurt. It was the all too human reaction whenever someone we deeply cared about was hurt. The what ifs, could have beens, should and would haves didn't waste any time taking space in his already tumultuous mind.

"I'm just glad you're okay," he confessed, lifting his eyes and catching her just as she'd turned her head away again, letting her hair fall to cover a part of her face. The sandy blonde tresses did very little to hide her face and the mark on her skin, but it didn't matter. The fact alone that she was compelled to hide from him already said enough. "Diane…"

"You…you shouldn't be here," she said, refusing still to face him. "Kurt, I—"

"Don't send me away," he said, cutting her off gently and took her hand in his, holding it tight. "Diane, I'm asking you…don't tell me to go away."

"I didn't even think you would come or if…" she shrugged, shaking her head slightly. "If you knew…"

"I heard it on the news," he said, "And…well, let's just say it was one hell of a wake up call."

Without another word, he reached out, tucked her hair back behind her ear. She shivered slightly, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them again, this time braving to look at him again.

"Hell is right," she nodded, "Thank you, for being here."

He smiled, "No place I'd rather be."

"The detective…"

"He's a friend of mine, Tony," he nodded at the door.

Diane nodded, "He said…he said people thought I was dead."

Kurt paused then nodded before replying a gruff, "Yeah…"

"You thought..." she looked at him for a moment, then nodded, "Oh."

"It…it was like waking up in hell," he said honestly.

"…I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"Not your fault," he said, bringing her hand to his cheek, kissing her palm. "You're here, that's all that matters."

Diane smiled slightly, "Charmer."

"Yeah, but I do have one confession to make," he straightened up slightly, playing with her fingers, glad he'd gotten the undamaged hand.

"What?" she asked.

"Remember that conversation we had? My last name?" he went on, pretending to look away though he was very much aware of her reactions.

"Yes," she smiled slightly. "What about it?"

"Well, turns out…" he shrugged, "I'm related to _him_."

Diane tilted her head to the side, watching him before shaking her head, "Liar."

He tried not to grin but failed, "No, really."

"Liar and lying, lying badly at that," she chuckled.

"I'm not, really," he insisted.

"You're bad liar," she smiled, "And you're trying to make me laugh."

Kurt nodded sheepishly, "Yeah. It worked, right?"

She chuckled, unable to help herself even though things had begun so awkwardly between them only moments ago, "A little."

He smiled, "Good."

They sat in silence, unsure where to go from there, but sure that they were staying where they were. They still had to talk, had so much left to discuss and decide on, but at that moment, seeing that they hadn't lost what they'd initially thought was lost forever, they were allowing themselves to have this moment to be happy, if only for a moment. They would talk, but not now, not then when there was still something so much more important at hand.

Diane let her fingers curl tighter around his, smiling when he held on tighter. She was never the emotional one, never one to dwell too much on her emotions, but for once, she was letting herself go, letting herself feel things she didn't easily let herself normally feel.

For the first time since she awoke, she wasn't afraid or unsure and didn't feel the need to run and hide. It was strange, acting this way when she should be doing anything _but _smiling. But what could she do? Like everything else at the moment, this was out of her control.

Kurt's eyes met hers as he leaned forward, kissing her lightly on the forehead, "I missed you."

-o0o-

Standing outside Diane Lockhart's home, Alicia stood with her phone pressed to her ear, watching as Kalinda easily slipped into the front door. They had easily bypassed the crime scene tapes and Alicia hadn't even tried to question when or how the investigator procure a key to their boss' home but before she could go in, her phone had rung.

More than glad to have a reason to delay stepping into her superior's home uninvited, Alicia stayed outside, observing the scenery around her as she listened to her assistant recount the phone call that had been returned by someone from Howard Industries. Erica, her client, was out of reach at the moment, but had been scheduled to meet with her two days from now.

"They asked about Diane?" Alicia queried, raising her eyebrow. "What did they say?"

"The usual," Courtney replied. "Unsure about changing council, secretly wondering if they should switch firms, but they confirmed the schedule so I guess they're okay with the change now, considering, uh, recent developments…"

Alicia nodded, "Good. Did they say anything else?"

"No, just asked a few more questions about Miss Lockhart," Courtney answered.

"Did you, uh," she paused, wondering why she was even curious in the first place when this was strictly business, "Did you get the impression that they _know _Diane, I mean, as more than a lawyer…?"

"I just spoke with Mr. Howard's secretary, but she said he was concerned so maybe they do know each other," the girl answered, "Oh, and…I don't know if you're aware or if this is even worth telling, but Kevin got a call from Miss Lockhart—"

"From Diane?"

Courtney must have sensed her surprise, though of course it wasn't hard to miss. "Yeah, I know. Kevin's kind of a little surprised, but apparently, she already had a few things for him to take care of…I think she's working from the hospital."

"She just got out of surgery…hours ago," Alicia shook her head, "And the attack…you're not kidding, are you?"

"No," Courtney answered, "I was right there when he got the call. When she told him who it was, he jumped. I mean, can you blame him though? We all thought she was—"

"I know," Alicia said, "Okay. We'll finish up here and I'll get right back to the office. Please, if Diane calls, let me know as soon as possible. If she's already working I'm sure she'll want some updates on the case."

"Should I still prepare that lunch?" Courtney clarified.

"Yeah," Alicia glanced back at the house, "I'm on a working lunch right now."

"Okay then," Courtney said. "I'll have a plate ready for you when you get back."

"Thank you," Alicia said then hung up, sighing slightly.

"Bad news?"

She jumped, catching sight of Kalinda as she emerged from the side of the expansive house, "God! You scared me."

A ghost of a smile appeared on the woman's face, "You're not comfortable being here."

"Gee, what gave it away?" Alicia muttered, "Diane's already giving orders to her assistant."

This time a real smile appeared on her friend's face, "You sound surprised."

"I am," Alicia admitted, "She just got out of surgery, she was _attacked _less than twelve hours ago. She should be resting or, I don't know, trying not to finish the job and kill herself."

"You're right," Kalinda nodded slightly, "But did you stop to consider whether or not staying in bed idle _won't _kill Diane Lockhart?"

She gave Alicia a look, raising an eyebrow with a somewhat amused look on her face before turning back to the direction she came from. Alicia looked around, wondering just how the community managed to stay so quiet in the middle of the day.

Alicia felt a soft gush of wind pass her and she shivered, glancing back at the car they'd driven in and contemplated staying in before shaking her head. She turned towards the house, following Kalinda's footsteps and deciding it was better to stick with her than stay out there. It was bad enough they were there, she wasn't even sure if the place was even cleared enough by the police for them to just go in.

Considering all the things she knew about Kalinda and things she would rather not think about, Alicia decided it was best if she didn't know. Ignorance wasn't an excuse, but it was sure as hell better than knowingly violating laws and rules as far as she was concerned.

"So what are we looking for?" Alicia asked, catching the woman just as she entered the back door of the house. A few yards away, she could already see the lake, but she didn't have time to appreciate the beauty, too caught up in wondering if perhaps they were really going to land in jail for this stunt.

Kalinda gave her a look then disappeared through the door.

Alicia stared after her, "Well, can't get anything clearer than _that_."

Shaking her head and promising never to tell her kids about this, the lawyer squared her shoulders and took a deep breath before going in. She would remember this, as she would many things in her life, but _this _was definitely one of those days that would stand out. She'd never broken into any of her boss' homes _ever_ so for someone like Alicia who never had much of a problem following rules, this was _something_.

After all, a girl never forgets her first time.

-o0o-

Will almost gave up looking until he reached the lobby of the front of the hospital and found Daniel standing by the glass windows, looking out where a few reporters were still camped. Not too far away were a few police officers, keeping them at bay and most probably keeping them from entering the building. It was a miracle they weren't inside yet, but then again, not too many reporters dared go against police officers head on.

What good was a story if you were behind bars, away from the source of the 'scoop'?

"They're persistent, those bloodhounds," Daniel remarked, hands stuffed in his pockets and looking quite pensive. At least the look on his face was a lot better than the murderous rage that had been there before.

"Yeah, well, it's the media, what can you expect?" Will answered, standing next to him and thankful for tinted glass windows. The last thing he needed right now was to set off the headline-hungry hooligans and have them launch accusations that he'd been the one who'd tried to kill his own partner.

"Think if I give them something they'll back off?" the older man asked, eyeing the small crowd outside, armed with microphones, cameras and runny mouths.

Will shook his head, "Right now, there isn't anything you can say to make them back off."

"They don't know me."

"They do," the lawyer corrected, "They might not know you right off the bat, but I can guarantee they'll recognize you somehow. Your family, well, people know you."

Daniel nodded, "Of course….you're right." He looked at Will, "Do I get to make them go away?"

"If you wish real hard," Will said then shook his head, "Sorry. No. Not at the moment. It's your sister they want."

"Which makes it all the more irritating," Daniel crossed his arms over his chest. "She doesn't need this right now."

Will nodded, "De Luca's men seem to be doing a good job."

"For how long?" Daniel asked, "I don't think the Chicago Police Department is inclined to babysit for more than a day, not to this extent." He paused, "Do you think hiring people would help?"

"What exactly do you mean?" Will asked, curious.

"To keep other those pests away," Daniel shrugged, "I mean, after that delivery boy fiasco, I'm sure there are still others willing to risk getting caught just to get in…"

Will thought for a moment, "It couldn't hurt."

"They're at the house too," Daniel frowned, "Gloria just called. They're calling and coming by, asking questions. The old bird can take care of herself, but I can't have that happening when Danni comes home."

"Diane doesn't even live there," Will frowned as well then shook his head, "They're fishing for information."

"Definitely," Daniel nodded, "I imagine there are people all over the city looking for all sorts of information about my sister, trying to get to the bottom of what happened." He glared at the people outside, "I wouldn't be surprised if they already have some half-cock bullshit story published by tomorrow."

"It's going to be a media circus," Will nodded.

"Bet your ass," the brother growled, "I hate this city sometimes."

Will kept silent. The more he saw of Daniel, the more he appeared to be different from Diane. He could sense, underneath the easy going manner, the jokes and stories, the man was a pit of rage. He sensed the anger, sensed the need for revenge, thirst for a wrong to be undone. Will could understand Daniel's feelings and even could share a few of them though he knew compared to his, his own would be greatly insignificant, but a part of him also wondered if perhaps this rage was fueled by something else. Was it guilt for leaving and staying away? Or was it something else? Will, the lawyer side of him, couldn't help but be suspicious.

Then again, the man's obvious need to protect could greatly reflect to a brother just protecting the sister he seemed so close to. Will could appreciate that and could somewhat relate, even though he'd never had siblings. He had old friends, friends he'd known all his life for whom he'd react the same way to if something like this happened.

So Will shook the feeling off and instead, continued to try and help the man, if only to keep his rage at bay and prevent him from doing something. It was bad enough trying to imagine who he might know who would kill for him, to have him someone to truly focus on, someone who might be linked to Jackson, was one hell of an experience he would rather avoid for everyone's good.

"Can you think of anyone, Will?" Daniel suddenly asked, his eyes never leaving the crowd of people outside.

"Excuse me?"

"Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt Danni?" he elaborated, shifting slightly, his arms still crossed over his chest, "Anyone at all."

"Capable of doing this?" Will drawled, "Honestly, no. Diane…well, she has her share of rivals but never anyone worth being truly afraid of…but I can't be sure. She-she didn't even tell me about her former client."

"Spellman is a subject she tends to avoid at all costs," Daniel replied, "She didn't even mention the scumbag to me, I'm guessing she was trying to get grips on the situation….I would have come home. Maybe that's why she didn't tell me."

"Would you have him killed, if he had anything to do with this?" Will asked outright, wondering just how far this man was willing to go.

Daniel paused, "No."

"No?"

"No," he shook his head, "I'll make sure he's put back in a cage and have someone give him a daily beating until the end of his pathetic miserable life. He'll die, but either by his own hand _or_, if miracles are real for fuckers like him, in old age. Either way, I won't be letting him off easy. I let him before but not again."

Will nodded slowly, "Remind me never to piss you off."

Daniel smirked, "Just lay off my sister and we'll get along just fine."

"Duly noted," Will nodded, "So…how's your ex-wife? Listen to her message yet?"

"Yes, yes, I did," Daniel nodded, "In fact, here…"

"_Did avoidance ever work for you, Daniel? Really? Because we both know it didn't work when we were married, it sure as hell isn't going to work now. Pick. Up. The. God. Damned. Phone. Or I swear to god, I will fly to Chicago—yes, I know you're there, you nit—and castrate you with a rusty breadknife. I need answers and we both know you're going to give them to me in the long run. Save me the time and effort, give me lesser reasons to kick your ass for the forty millionth time and PICK UP THE FUCK—"_

Will's eyes were wide even after Daniel cut the message and stuffed his phone back in his pocket, "She's got an unbelievable staying power, that mouth of hers, but I think you've heard enough to get the picture, hm?"

"Yeah, uh, she…she sounds…"

"Like a psychopath," Daniel nodded solemnly, "That's actually one of the things I loved about her…well, before our marriage fell apart."

"She's still friends with Diane?"

Daniel grinned, "Yes." He raised an eyebrow, "And you can bet your ass she knows you and, given how girls can be, it's possible she knows more about you than I do."

"Great," Will said dryly.

"Isn't it?" Daniel clapped him on the shoulder, "Chances are, she hates your guts too."

Whatever reply Will was about to make was interrupted by the ringing of Daniel's phone. Seeing the man frown, the lawyer couldn't help the grimace that appeared on his face as he tried to guess who it was, "Is that her again?"

"No," the other man shook his head, "It's my son. Damn."

"Aren't you going to pick up?" Will prodded.

"And say what?" Daniel groused, "He'll be looking for my sister…where the hell is her phone anyway?"

"It's still in evidence," Will answered, shifting slightly. "She'll get it back soon."

"Well, I can't wait that long and god knows Nick won't," Daniel frowned, "Better get back up there. She'll club me if we end up fighting again."

"Father/son relationship not going too well?"

They headed back towards the elevators, "Well, verging on non-existent so…yes, you could say that…"

Will shook his head, "I can relate."

Daniel snickered, "Of course you can."

He was tempted to ask what he meant, but Will decided not to as they stepped into the elevator. There were a couple of nurses there but they didn't take notice. Daniel pressed the button for the specific floor they needed to get to and tucked his hands back in his pockets.

"So, Will…" Daniel began, glancing at the man next to him."

"Yeah?"

"What _exactly_ is going on between my sister and Mr. McVeigh?"

-o0o-

"I'm sorry I can't go with you."

"It's okay," he replied, kissing her lightly on the cheek and tucking a lock of red hair behind her ear. "This has nothing to do with you and I just need to—"

"I know, I know," she nodded, kissing him. "I'll be here when you get back, just…just do what you have to do."

He nodded, "I'll call you when I get there, okay?"

"Mhm," she nodded, "I'm…I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," he smiled, "If anything, you're keeping me together."

"Just doing what I can," she smiled. "Now, go. I'll see you when you get back."

"Okay," he kissed her again, unwilling to leave though he knew he had no other choice. "Just…take care of yourself, okay? The coffee pot is on the—"

"I know, I know!" she laughed. "I'm not _that _helpless you know."

"I like to think you are, when I'm not around."

"Oh, that's just corny," she giggled the stopped when the PA System announced the flight to Chicago that was about to board. "You'll miss you plane."

"Yeah," he nodded, "I'll call you, okay?"

"Yes, yes, just go," she pushed him slightly. "I love you."

"I love you too," he smiled. "I'll call you when I land."

With one last kiss, he walked away, bag in hand and she stood there, watching him leave. The public announcer declared the flights from New Haven to Chicago was ready to board and it was all she could do not to run and get a ticker for herself. She watched, smiling and rolling her eyes when he stopped at the gates and waved goodbye.

It was only four hours, she reminded herself. If things ever cleared and he wasn't back yet, then all she'd have to do was get on a plane and follow him and it would only take four hours to get there, that was all. She blew him a kiss, mouthed a goodbye and watched when he finally disappeared.

She missed him already.

-o0o0o0o0o0o-

Okay, so this took forever. Sorry about that. And yes, this was crappier than usual, I noticed that too. Well…life sucks, that's all I can say for now.

**_To Ellie:  
_**Sorry this took forever. Will reply to at the board, 'kay?

_**To annaflower:  
**_I will definitely try to give more on Will and the others-I'm sorry for the wait, but I promise I'm back. I'll be trying harder to get my writing back, god knows this one sucked, so I hope you'll forgive me for the wait. I'm very glad you're still able to read this even though Diane isn't a favorite of yours though.

_**To vivaldia:  
**_Alicia and Will pairing? Well, I can't promise anything, but I can say that they'll have scenes together in the future. I'm glad you like my story anyway though! lol

**_To everyone:  
_**Review if you want…I won't beg anymore since it didn't work then, why should it work now?


	12. Chapter 12: Chasing Pavements

**Blackout  
**by: raileht  
**  
****Summary:** It was over. The fight in her was almost completely out and she was nearing total exhaustion. She was about to die.  
**Disclaimer: **The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.  
**Rating: **T, to be safe

**Spoilers/Timeline:** post-finale but the last scene with McVeigh and Lockhart (when she came to see him in the end) never took place in this story. Also, Eli Gold isn't in the firm and let's pretend Alicia found some other way to stay in L&G. And of course, Peter is still in jail.**  
****Warning: **Bad words and a lot of violence right from the start. Will be a somewhat dark story so people will be in pain—physical and emotional. Maybe not for the faint hearted.

**Chapter Title taken from:**  
Adele, _Chasing Pavements_

-o0oo0oo0o-

**Chapter Twelve: Chasing Pavements**

"What are you talking about?"

Daniel smiled and shook his head, "You insult my intelligence, Gardner…and here I thought we were starting to become friends."

"We are, I mean, yes," Will said, backtracking a little for the unintended slight. "I mean, what do you mean exactly? Diane and Kurt are…are, well…"

He trailed off, not entirely sure what he was _allowed _to share knowing even _he _wasn't even aware of the full extent of Diane's relationship with the ballistics expert. He knew they'd slept together and even knew about the dinner that came _before _that, but what about after? Will didn't want to end up giving out the wrong information, especially since _this _information wasn't even his to consider.

Will was starting to rethink playing host for Diane's brother. The man had the uncanny need to spring the most absurd and/or shocking questions he could think of in the most inopportune moments. As if it wasn't bad enough being asked if _he _was sleeping with his sister, what more another man who Will knew next to nothing about?

"I don't know," he shook his head, his tone honest because he was. He didn't know _anything_ so what else could he say? He certainly wasn't going to make up some sort of half-truth. Lawyer Will lied, yes, but common man Will, who valued his life and family jewels beyond anything, wasn't up to playing gossip queen with his partner's brother.

"I appreciate your attempt at loyalty," the older man said, sounding genuine enough. "But don't take me for a fool, Will and don't worry, I'm just asking. This isn't high school where the big brother will beat up the neighbor kid for looking at his sister. I just prefer to be…_informed_."

Will nodded, "I'm not lying, Dan. I really don't know what's between them."

"Oh?" Daniel raised an eyebrow, "Fine. Then answer me this—have they _ever _slept together?"

Now what the hell was he suppose to say to that? Will wondered, taking his eyes away from the man standing next to him and staring ahead. What would happen if he told the truth? What would Diane say? She obviously hadn't told her brother of the new man in her life—if he even still was at this point—so there must be a reason for that. He was skating on thin ice, Will was sure and it was either deal with Diane, who he knew could punish him in so many different ways _or _deal with her potentially mentally unstable brother.

This was a rock and a crazy place for Will and just as he was deciding on how to answer the question, he heard the other man beginning to chuckle. He looked at him, just as the doors opened, "What? I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to," Daniel smiled wickedly, "The _look _on your face was enough and don't think for _one second_ I did not see those rapidly turning screws in your head."

"I didn't—"

"So my sister slept with a Republican, eh?" Daniel laughed merrily, "That explains the screaming I heard—that was our grandfather, trying to claw his way out of the grave."

"Dan—"

"I mean, seriously," the older man ignored him, "Danni Lockhart, little Danni, getting into bed with the enemy. Classic! If grandfather were alive…well, he would have died! Oh, the _horror_!"

Will felt his cheeks burn slightly, wondering what mess he'd just gotten himself into. Daniel was enjoying everything a little too much and if Diane had purposely hidden her relationship—whatever it was—with Kurt McVeigh, he'd just found out why. The older man was positively gleeful, smiling brilliantly and gesturing madly. Will watched him, wondering just how screwed he was.

"For the record, I _didn't _say anything," Will insisted, "I didn't."

"Of course you didn't," Daniel chuckled, "But it's not like you had to…you might be a damned good lawyer, Will," the other man stepped out of the elevator ahead of him, "But god in heaven, you can't keep your fear of my sister out of your eyes."

He laughed and went ahead, leaving Will with no other option but to follow. Normally, he would have denied being afraid of Diane Lockhart or any woman except his mother, but heaven knew he was off his game today. Diane was going to find out, how could she not? And there was no way she wasn't going to figure out it was _him _who'd just let it slip. Will was tempted to leave, just walk away and try and avoid seeing her until he was somewhat sure she wasn't going to kill him.

Then again, he thought, either way, he was dead. If she really wanted to kill him, she'd find him herself and beat the hell out of him. In every which way or form, Will was terminally screwed so, instead of following his instincts to run, Will stepped out of the car, followed Daniel and mentally prepared himself for his inevitable annihilation.

Lockharts, he thought almost miserably, were trouble.

-o0o-

Alicia Florrick had seen crime scenes pictures before and had, at one point, even unknowingly walked into one thanks to a peculiar client named Colin Sweeney, but never in her entire life had she ever walked into a crime scene where the person who'd been hurt was someone she actually knew. She was finding, as she crept into the kitchen where there were still signs of the recent events that took place, that the experience was indeed more unpleasant.

There was still some overturned furniture, she noticed and, on some surfaces she could see print powder from where the forensic investigators had obviously passed through. Alicia made sure to avoid anything that was quite obviously part of the scene, stepping over markers left behind, overturned chairs and other pieces scattered on the floors.

With a trained eye, even though she wasn't quite sure _what _she was looking for, Alicia took in the feel of the kitchen, absorbing everything she could. Even in the midst of the obvious chaos that took place, she could see the place had once been immaculate. The place reflected who the occupant was and somehow, she could see the similarities between the woman who owned the kitchen and the woman who stalked the halls of the firm.

Alicia wasn't privy as to whether Diane Lockhart was the type of woman to cook, but from the way things looked—the high end design, state of the art appliances and fixtures—the place had obviously been kept up to date. If the place was for show, then Diane or whoever was responsible for the house's modeling, they'd done a good job.

Once again, she was reminded of just how little she knew about the woman and with that, came the same feeling of guilt that somehow, Alicia was violating her privacy, prying into her life in a way she never should. The feeling that she was doing something utterly wrong came again only this time she knew she'd gone through the point of no return. She'd seen the place, seen things she shouldn't have seen without being invited in. Alicia felt like a ghoul.

A ghoul with a conscience, that is.

Taking a few measured steps, Alicia left the kitchen, looking around carefully and trying to find some sign of Kalinda, wondering just where the woman had slipped to this time. She was just along for the ride, essentially, so it was best that she stuck with her, right? The private investigator definitely knew more compared to her when it came to dealing with crime scenes. Alicia, for all she was worth, was a lawyer through and through and except for knowing police procedure by the law, she knew next to nothing about playing a cop and _that _included walking through crime scenes unguided.

Not knowing whether they were supposed to be there or not made things all the more complicated, of course. She still had brief flashes of her and Kalinda getting arrested for trespassing, maybe jeopardizing an ongoing investigation—an investigation concerning _their _boss.

"Kalinda?" she called out, careful not to be too loud. She was sure they were alone, but couldn't help the bite of paranoia that told her not to make too much noise. The place was quiet, almost _too _quiet and it was eerie was hell.

Alicia walked down the hall, ignoring the images that flashed through her mind. She knew parts of the investigation, the part that said everything had started near the front of the house and had ended in the kitchen. That meant that chances are Diane herself had gone through the same path she was now taking, most probably running from a killer, was enough to make Alicia's mind spin so she ignored it. It was better that way.

It was no secret she'd grown steadily better at ignoring things now anyway.

"Kalinda?" she called out again, measured steps taking her to the front of the house, heading towards the front door and bypassing the living room. She headed towards the stairs, somehow guessing that Kalinda would be up _there_ where, of course, more of Diane's world lay waiting.

Again, she was hesitant to go there, knowing things were getting more and more personal. Up there, she knew where the bedrooms had to be and, again, Alicia felt the twist of guilt. Dare she stop now?

Logic and the screaming sirens going off in her head told Alicia not to go, but even with all that, she couldn't stop her foot from taking the first step upwards. She spotted the small marker where, to her horror, it looked as if there were a few drops of blood and, again, she chose to ignore that. She stepped far and away from the marker and crept up the steps, slowly. Having seen that piece, Alicia had no other way to go but up. She wanted to be away from that as much as possible.

Everything inside her mind told her to stop, go back down and head back to the car. Being five wasn't so bad and the more she violated her boss's privacy and trampled in her life, staying in the car was beginning to look more and more preferable, if only to stop the guilt that was continuing to work its way through her system. But, as if caught in a trance, Alicia could not stop herself from going forward, from taking each step up and coming closer and closer towards the core of Diane Lockhart's world.

There was a special place in hell for lawyers, she always knew, but as she landed at the top of the stairs, catching sight of Kalinda's form just slipping into what she guessed was the master bedroom, Alicia found herself coming towards another conclusion.

There was a special place in hell _for _Alicia Florrick.

-o0o-

Will and Daniel had gotten to the room just in time to see a nurse exit. Though his mood had remained quite cheerful after getting another one up over the lawyer, the feeling quickly vanished when he spotted the woman dressed in white.

"What's going on?" he asked, foregoing politeness as his own worry reflected quite clearly in his eyes.

"Miss Lockhart was beginning to feel some discomfort after the morphine was beginning to wear off," the nurse explained. "We've administered another dose. She should be comfortable for a few more hours."

"Oh, good then," Daniel nodded, reaching past her for the door. "Thank you."

Will nodded, "Yes, thank you."

She smiled and nodded, stepping out of their way to let the two men pass. Glancing back just as the door closed, she smiled to herself again, wondering just how their high profile patient managed to get her men in line and within arm's reach every time. Not counting what she'd just gone through, the young woman could easily surmise that she was a lucky woman, having all of them be at her beck and call.

Daniel slipped into the room first, just in time to see Kurt McVeigh sitting back down in the seat he'd occupied that morning. On the bed, Diane lay with her eyes closed, seemingly relaxed though there was still a small knot on her forehead, a sure sign that while she was _trying _to stay down, something else was clearly bothering her.

"So," he said casually, going to the other side of the bed. He gave a cordial nod towards Kurt who returned the gesture, sitting back in his seat with his hands clamped together. "I heard they gave you the good stuff, sister dearest."

"They did," Diane answered though she kept her eyes closed. "Remind me to get a batch for my office. I'm going to need it for some…choice clients."

Daniel grinned, "Ah, sharing your drugs. How thoughtful."

"It's not for them," she mumbled, "It's for me."

From his position leaning against the wall in front of the bed, Will chuckled while Daniel took his seat, smiling to himself. Leave to his sister to begin recovery already.

"Will Gardner, what are you doing _here_?" she asked, still attempting to relax though obviously that was not to be at the moment. "Don't you have a firm to run or have I slept away the last ten years and you're about to tell me we no longer have one?"

"Relax," Will said, "My schedule for today is clear, the firm is in good hands _and _I've informed them to let me know if _anything _happens."

Diane opened her eyes, "Will…"

He smiled and shook his head slightly, "You know what? Fine. If it makes you feel better, _I'll _call the office right now, okay? I'll check on things and if they need me, I'll leave."

"Thank you," she said then waved him off.

"See? What did I tell you?" Daniel called after Will who shook a fist at him over his shoulder.

"What was that all about?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at her brother.

"Just me proving a point," he answered with a shrug. "So…I met your friend earlier," he nodded at Kurt.

Diane turned to the other man, giving him a questioning look only to get a slight shake of his head. Slowly, she turned back to her brother, "What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"Daniel Archer Lockhart the _third_."

"_Nothing_," he insisted, showing his hands as if that would prove his innocence. "I only briefly met Mr. McVeigh, all right? We had a nice chat and _no_, I did not tell him _any _of your lovely little exploits as the young but troublesome little Lockhart."

"I highly doubt that," she mumbled, remembering all the times he'd embarrassed her in front of suitors. Her brother had a perverse sense of switching between the threatening brother _and _the annoying brother. Up to now, she still wasn't sure which she preferred.

Daniel grinned, "Oh, come on, Danni. I've been _very _good. I wouldn't even _think _of telling your boyfriend any secret of yours. At least, not yet."

"He's not my—" she began, only to receive a look from him. Her face turned grim and easily guessed what was spurring on her brother, "Will."

"Now, to be fair, he didn't exactly _say _anything," Daniel explained though he was obviously enjoying the whole thing.

"He's not my boyfriend and god," she rolled her eyes, "What a juvenile term…"

"_He _is still in the room, you know," Daniel pointed out, leaning to the side slightly and flashing a smile at Kurt who, up until then had been quite comfortable sitting quietly while the two siblings hashed it out.

Diane rolled her eyes, "I really don't see why this is any of your business…"

"It's not, I just like prying into my baby sister's private life," Daniel said simply, "So, Kurt…you and my sister…"

"Dan," she said warningly.

Daniel ignored her and instead looked at Kurt who was watching him with passive eyes, "Did she happen to mention _who _her father _and _grandfather were?"

"Kurt, may I borrow your phone?" Diane said loudly.

"Uh, sure," Kurt said, pulling out his phone and looking at Daniel, "She didn't say who they were specifically, but I know of them. I live in the country, but come on, it's Chicago."

"I know, right?" Daniel grinned, "And you're a Rep—"

"Daniel, did I mention to you that Gwen is currently—"

Daniel's smile fell and suddenly lurched forward, reaching towards the bed with one hand, only to have Diane raise the arm that was trapped in a cast. It had hardened significantly well and, as she was now happily discovering, made the perfect shield. In the background, Kurt stood up, unsure what was going on but ready to help Diane if needed.

The brother was a complete stranger to him and though Kurt knew Diane was capable of taking care of herself, he wasn't about to sit by and just let something happen to her. Brother or not, Kurt knew his part in all this. There was no way anyone was laying a hand on her again.

Unfazed by the sudden movements, Diane gave her brother a dark smile, "Try me, brother dear, _try me_. One good reason, _really_. I'm just _dying _to call her."

"You wouldn't."

She smiled serenely, "Oh, wouldn't I?"

Daniel frowned, "You've lost your sense of humor."

"Lay off and I'll drop the phone, it's as easy as that," she smiled. "If anyone's lost their sense of humor, right now, it's you."

Deflated, Daniel sat back down, frowning at his sister, "You're mean."

She rolled her eyes at her brother, "And you are a pain—you can't blame me for taking drastic measures just to keep you in line."

"But calling _Gwen_? I fail to see the fairness of the situation, honestly."

"Because it's not meant to be fair," she shrugged, "Come on, Danny boy. Don't you miss her? Even _just for a little bit_? I'm sure she misses you...just _how _many times has she called you in the, say, last hour?"

Daniel gritted his teeth, "She left messages."

Diane giggled in a way Kurt had never heard her done before, "Let me listen?"

"No," he scoffed, "I deleted them."

She smiled, "Liar."

"Did I ever tell you how much I _hate _when you do that?" Daniel mumbled then looked at Kurt again, "You're dating a human lie detector, did I tell you that?"

Diane laughed.

"She is having _too much _fun," he mumbled, rising from his seat, "And she's fighting dirty. _And _I can't even fight back…" he shook his head, "I'm going to see what's keeping lunch."

"Yes, go and do that," she said, chuckling. "And remember—I _know _her number! By heart!"

"You're doing _this _to your flesh and blood," Daniel pointed out, "This makes me wonder—do you even _have _a heart?"

She continued to laugh.

Daniel left the room, muttering slightly. Diane sat back, pleased with herself and what she'd just accomplished. Sibling rivalry games were always fun, especially whenever she brought up the _Gwen _card. Yes, it was dirty, but god, was it effective.

"Who were you talking about?" Kurt asked, though he was glad to see her smiling.

"Hm?" she hummed.

"Gwen?"

She smiled, "His first ex-wife."

"First?"

"He's had three," Diane answered then sobered up, "I'm sorry for what I said…"

"About what?"

"What Daniel implied and how I…" she stopped, "If I sounded too dismissive, believe me, that was not my intention, I just—"

"Nah," he shook his head, "We…we never exactly defined what we, uh, were…are?"

Diane looked at him, regarding him for a moment, taking in how he fidgeted ever so slightly in his seat. She remembered laughing with him, how much she enjoyed being around him despite their differences. She'd dated before, loved even, but _he _was different. And as much as she'd tried pushing him from her mind, she couldn't deny it to herself that the more she pushed, the more he stayed.

She knew she wasn't supposed to even be thinking about entertaining rekindling what she and Kurt had, but somehow, looking at recent events, what was slowly developing even before the incident, she was slowly starting to realize just what she'd been lacking lately. Pushing from her mind the rest of the world and for once, concentrating on what _she _wanted, regardless of how it may look to the outside world, Diane allowed herself to come to a conclusion she'd long been avoiding ever since that first night with the last man she'd ever expected to even consider.

Diane handed his phone back to him and simply said, "Are."

_This _was what she needed.

-o0o-

Slipping out of his sister's hospital room again, Daniel found Will Gardner speaking to a younger man dressed in a suit. Watching him with observant eyes, he immediately came to a conclusion that the man, though dressed properly, could surely not be a lawyer. At least, not an employee of his sister's firm because, as shallow as it seemed, that firm liked seeing their people well dressed.

For the man's age, he could be a fresh graduate, kid out of law school and _if _he indeed was a lawyer for Lockhart & Gardner, then he should have been dressed to the nines. Kids out of law school tended to choose to dress expensively, even beyond their means, if only to impress their superiors and clients. With a firm like Lockhart & Gardner, presentation was everything.

Still smarting from his sister's threats, Daniel decided to find something else to occupy his thoughts, which was why he also decided to barge into Will's obviously important little meeting.

"Why so serious?" Daniel commented, sliding in next to Will as he stood by the opposite wall, obviously intimidating the hell out of the young man who was carrying a file case and a small pouch. "Another reporter?"

"No," Will answered, "This is Kevin. He's Diane's assistant for today—temporary until Annie is allowed back in."

"Oh, hello," Daniel said kindly, sparing the young man a kind shake as he obviously looked distressed. "Daniel Lockhart. The Brother."

"A pleasure," the young man answered, trying to muster up a firm handshake.

"What brings you here, Kevin?" Daniel eyed the black file case.

"Miss Lockhart called me at the office, told me to bring her a few things," he showed him the case. "She said I should bring them over here."

"Oh, did she now?" Daniel exchanged a look with Will. "How did we miss the phone in that room?"

Will shrugged, "I already told Kevin to bring it right back to the firm" He turned to the younger man again, "I also said if it isn't pressing, it can wait until Diane comes back. If not, have it be forwarded to Julius' office who is currently the one responsible for sorting out Diane's load."

"But Miss Lockhart—"

"Miss Lockhart is a stubborn mule," Daniel sighed, "And I believe you…" he turned to Will, "You can't fight this, you know. She'll just keep calling him back until he comes. If not, she'll fire him and kill you. Either way, she's getting those files and…" he eyed the pouch suspiciously, "Whatever else she's asked him to bring."

"She needs to rest," Will answered, frowning. "She needs to recover—am I the only one who cares that _all of this _happened _less _than twenty-four hours ago?"

Daniel nodded, "I understand where you're coming from, believe me, I do and yes, I would like nothing more than to tie her stubborn highness to the bed, but believe me, you can't win this one."

"Well, what do you want us to do? Let her pile in on her work and kill herself?"

"She knows her limits and if it does come to that," the older man waved his hand, "We'll bring in someone who can control her."

"I can't imagine such a person exists," Will said sardonically, clearly annoyed. He too was coming to a grudging acceptance that no matter what they did, they wouldn't be able to stop Diane from getting what she wanted. Unless, of course, sedation was involved, but even then eventually they would have to wake her up again and _then _hell would start. Either way, there was no winning this one.

"Oh, she does," Daniel said with a devious little smile, "But we'll save the best for last. Let her do what she wants, Will. We'll monitor her and if she doesn't listen…well, that person, she exists _and _she's only a phone call away."

"She lives in the city? This _angel_ lives in Chicago?"

Daniel grinned, "Hell yeah."

"Why am I only finding out this _now_?" Will muttered, "I could have used the help in the past."

"Yes, I know," Daniel smiled, "My sister is a pain in the ass. It's genetic."

"This person…" Will looked doubtful, "Really a phone call away?"

"Faster than you can say 'nap time'."

Will thought for a moment then nodded reluctantly and motioned for Kevin to head to the door.

"Thank you, Mr. Gardner, Mr. Lockhart," Kevin mumbled as he passed.

Will stopped, "Kevin?"

"Yes, Mr. Gardner?" the doubt was in the man's face, wondering perhaps if Will had changed his mind.

"You tell her _nothing _of what you just heard," Will intoned, all trace of his previous amusement gone. He meant business and it was not hard to miss.

Kevin nodded, "Yes, of course, sir."

Will waved him off then turned to Daniel.

"You just saved his job," the other man remarked.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" Will asked, watching just as the door closed.

Daniel smiled deviously, waving his phone, "Of course."

If his sister wanted to play dirty, then so could he.

-o0o-

"What exactly are we looking for?"

Alicia stood outside the master bedroom, unsure whether she could really go in or not. Technically, _Kalinda _was doing her job, which included invading people's privacy—yes, even their boss'—and looking into things no other person should be privy to. Her, on the other hand, a lawyer and really just that, _wasn't _supposed to be there, out in the field and definitely _not _anywhere near one of the partner's homes.

"I'm looking for evidence," the woman finally answered, "Anything that can help explain what happened _or _if there were signs that something like this could happen."

"You already have the letters," Alicia pointed out. "Isn't that a sign already?"

"It doesn't hurt to look for more," Kalinda answered simply, her voice sounding a little distant. "I'm in the bathroom already, Alicia. I haven't found anything damning. You're safe."

"I'm…fine here," Alicia said nonchalantly, looking at a painting on the far wall. It was a lot different than the ones in the office, the ones Jonas Stern had tried to take away.

The paintings in the house were done in a realist style, very much different from the abstract paintings in the firm. The colors were soft and warm, some a little wistful even and somehow, they reminded Alicia of Andrew Wyeth's _Christina's World_, a piece she remembered studying in college for one of her classes.

"If you were expecting something crazy, like…an S&M den, there isn't one," Kalinda said, exiting the bedroom with a ghost of a smile on her lips.

"Oh, god," Alicia muttered, shaking her head. "I was so _not _thinking that…"

"Yeah, but now you are," Kalinda smiled mischievously and this time didn't bother to hide her obvious enjoyment.

Alicia gave her the evil eye then followed her as she advanced towards down the hall, leading away from the bedroom. "Tell me again why I'm here…?"

Kalinda shrugged, "Contingency plan."

"What exactly does that mean?"

"It means that if anyone asks, we're here under Will Gardner's orders and you," she headed straight towards a set of wooden double doors and slid them open, "Are here to collect a few things for a case he and Diane are working on together."

"_What?"_

"Relax," the woman said, stepping into what looked like a modest library. "It's all taken care of."

Alicia shook her head, "This is insane."

The other woman just waved a hand, looking around the room. Alicia followed, this time a little in awe of the room they were now in. On two sides of the four walls in the room, there were shelves that started from the floor to the ceiling with every space filled to the hilt with books. Some were covered in glass, some open and, in the far corner, there was a wooden ladder leaning against one of the shelves.

On the remaining wall, right across from where Alicia stood, there was a fireplace and two wing chairs and she could imagine Diane sitting there, reading by the fire, maybe with a glass of wine or two. The room was well decorated, warm with rich dark cherry wood finishing and it stood out from the rest of the rooms in the house. Stepping into this room made Alicia feel like she'd stepped into an altogether different house. The only thing bearing any sign that it was the same house was the large painting over the fireplace, with the same warm colors and realistic strokes.

Standing in the room, something told Alicia the owner of the home frequented this place the most. She didn't know why, but the image of Diane being in the room, being comfortable and safe there, would not leave her mind. The place was warm and welcoming, even she could imagine staying there for hours.

"This is the room partners love to visit," Kalinda said simply. "Diane has…an extensive collection."

"That's one way to put it," Alicia muttered, looking around. "This is hers, all of it?"

"Mhm," the investigator hummed, "She has a lot of first editions. And there's even a popular story around the office—one time, Stern found a book he said he had to have and offered Diane money—insane amounts of it and the other partners, mainly Rosenblatt and Michaels, heard what he was doing and it started a bidding war."

"A bidding war? For a book?" Alicia raised an eyebrow, her interest certainly piqued, not having pegged the latterly mentioned partners to be readers.

"Yup," Kalinda smirked, "It pissed Diane off—this was her party, after all, and decided to keep the book out of everyone's view. She hid it in her room."

Alicia blinked, "Don't tell me…"

Kalinda grinned, "She found Stern in her bedroom, rummaging through her things. Everyone could hear her screaming at him."

The lawyer chuckled, not at all surprised by their former boss's antics. "Did she ban him from going here?"

"No," she shook her head, "But she drew up a contract for him to sign…nobody knows what it was, but it was serious. Will knows about it though."

Alicia shook her head, "So what exactly are we doing _here_? The…_incident_ happened downstairs and this is really beyond the—"

Kalinda ignored her, heading towards the fireplace and, without a word, abruptly pulled the corner panel of the ledge, pulling it roughly out. The wood gave easily, revealing itself to be a small rectangular drawer, cleverly disguised as just another finishing. Alicia looked on, surprised and very curious.

"What are you doing?"

"People like Diane like their secrets," Kalinda said simply, "And _this_," she held up a key, "Is one of them."

The investigator left the room, key in hand and the lawyer didn't bother questioning again, knowing she'd just have to wait to find out what exactly the woman thought she was doing. How she even knew where the panel was so quickly was a mystery to Alicia.

But then again, she wouldn't put it past the woman to have a copy of the blueprints of the house.

Alicia followed Kalinda, her surprise and curiosity taking her back to the bedroom and entering without even noticing what she was doing. She'd promised herself she would not enter, but evidently curiosity won out and before she knew it, she was standing by the door of Diane Lockhart's large closet, watching with a slight morbid fascination as the woman pushed aside a set of coats on the left side of the room, revealing a small keyhole and pushing the key in easily.

"Dare I ask…?"

Kalinda's head bobbed slightly, "No."

Alicia waited, still standing by the door and this time, promised to stay where she was and look nowhere else. A big part of her wished that Diane would never know that she'd been there. Her privacy and safety had already been compromised by what happened, she wasn't sure she would appreciate someone else stepping into her home, her bedroom especially, without her consent.

Observing her friend instead, Alicia watched Kalinda pull out her small camera, laying something on the floor of the room and taking a few pictures, brief flashes coming now and again. Once finished, with careful precision, she picked up the things she'd taken pictures of and put them back, closing the door and locking it. The coats were pushed back in place and, tucking the camera back into her pocket, faced Alicia, her eyes dark.

"What…?"

"We're done here," was all the woman said, slipping by her and out of the closet, into the room and out of the bedroom. All the while, Alicia followed quietly, wondering what she'd found.

She wasn't sure what it was, but from the look on the investigator's face, it was serious.

And once again, Alicia wondered just what else Diane Lockhart was hiding.

-o0o-

"Please tell Mr. Cain that I will be contacting him as—"

Diane stopped, mid sentence when the door opened and Will stepped in.

Will had managed to catch Kurt stepping out, explaining briefly that Diane was going through some work related things and had subsequently thrown him out for letting his displeasure known regarding her going back to work so soon. Relieving him of his post and from what he'd had correctly guessed as some classic post-Lockhart verbal whipping, Daniel easily managed to get Kurt to agree to fetching their lunch from the lobby, the delivery having been halted by security due to the current barring of unnecessary presence concerning their sought after patient.

They'd left Will with the perfect opportunity to slip back into the room, just to see what kind of work Diane was doing now. What he found, he was not liking at all.

Beside Diane, Kevin stood, having spent the whole time he'd been in the room trying to appear normal when inside he felt like he'd been sucker punched upon seeing the appearance of his boss. She'd sounded so normal on the phone, he had foolishly managed to convince himself that she was _really _fine.

Instead, he'd faced an obviously battered Diane Lockhart, an image he never thought he'd encounter. The shock of the bruises on her face and neck, plus the cast on her arm and the fact that she was in bed made the reality harsher than it had originally been in his mind. He had tried not to stare, not wanting to make her uncomfortable with his own discomfort so instead, he took out his notepad and started jotting down everything she wanted him to do, avoiding her injuries with his eyes as much as possible.

The list had been growing quite lengthy and the appearance of the firm's other partner stopped whatever else Diane was about to have him do. Kevin wasn't sure whether he should be happy or not, especially since he was now stuck between both partners, with Will wearing that _look _on his face that always meant trouble was looming ahead.

"That's enough," Will said, pointing to the door, "Kevin, thank you for coming, now please, go back to the office and make sure Miss Lockhart's phones are covered."

Kevin stared at him, swallowing a lump in his throat that he was so sure _hadn't _been there before. The look on the man's face was serious, so serious that he was tempted to take a step back.

But the fact that less than two feet away was the woman who was basically even more terrifying than the other man in the room left Kevin wondering exactly what he was suppose to do. Clearly, he couldn't just walk away from his boss so, with his heart hammering, Kevin stayed put, looking at Will then at Diane, unmoving.

"Kevin…?" Will said, sounding a little more than impatient.

"Didn't we talk about this already?"Diane said, raising an eyebrow as she took off the glasses Kevin had procured from her office. She always had a spare lying around.

Will frowned and opened his mouth to say something before his eyes widened, "Did you get _another _phone?"

She glanced at the small box next to her, "Yes. And it's been updated to have my contacts _and _the same number I had on my previous phone which, as we all know, is currently in evidence…somewhere in this city. God knows where."

Will glared at Kevin who avoided his eyes, "Diane, do you not understand rest? You need time to recover. You _can't _just jump back into work as if nothing happened!"

"Yes, I can," she said stubbornly, "I'm _not _dead Will! I can definitely work, I'm fine!"

"No, you're not," he said, though he was calm. "Stop being so stubborn."

"Stop telling me what to do," she snapped, "God! What makes you people think you can just tell me what to do _now_? You think THIS changes things? Because if you do, then _all of you _are _sadly _mistaken!"

"Diane—"

"No, you listen to me," she pointed a finger at him, "I am _not _about to let some _dead _psychopath stop me from living my life. And guess what? That includes doing my job so, please, spare me the lecture because I am _not _interested!"

She hadn't been aware she'd begun to raise her voice until she stopped, hearing herself near the end and seeing Kevin's pale face. She stopped, blinking a few times and bringing her hand to her temple, pushing her hair back and completely ignoring her fingers brushing the edge of the bandage on her head. She breathed in deeply, eyes closed and wondering just how she'd let herself lose control so suddenly. She needed to regroup.

Will turned to Kevin, "I think that's enough for today…"

Kevin looked at his boss, who nodded almost imperceptibly. He was lucky he'd worked with her enough times to know and read the signs correctly. Gingerly, he gathered the few papers she'd sorted, slipping them into the file case and left the room without another word, leaving the two dueling partners to deal with the situation.

"I know…" Will began, then stopped. "I can only imagine how you're feeling and I know that isn't enough, but Diane…you need time to recover. I know you want some semblance of control back and how you think you can only function with work, but…"

He paused, taking a few steps closer to the bed, watching her as she kept her eyes closed, her uninjured hand pressed to her lips.

"But if you want to get back to work as soon as possible," he continued, "You need to take care of yourself, give yourself time to heal or else…what happened, what you refuse to talk about and acknowledge…it'll eat you up and it's going to—"

"Stop."

"Diane, I just—"

"I swear to _god _Will, if you do not stop I'll get off this bed and beat you with this cast," Diane snarled, opening her eyes with a ready glare.

Will stopped, nodding slowly as he slipped his hands into his pockets. "I…what can I do? I-I don't know what to do, Diane, okay? I-we deal with things like this, but this…"

"Will, stop it."

"I don't _know _what to do, okay?" he went on, as if he hadn't heard her. "For once, I don't have a single clue about what to do. I stay at the office, my head will go right back here, I stay here, you do what you want and what you want is to _not _rest and try to heal as fast as possible, either way—I can't help you."

"I never asked you to."

"Well, _tough_," he said, throwing his hands up, "I'm here, okay? And right now, I don't know where else I could be because, damn it, I can't leave. Do you understand that?"

"Do you understand that we have a firm—"

"Oh, would you STOP talking about work?" Will cut her off. "Please, Diane, for the love of _god_, stop thinking about work for _one second _and just…do you understand where you are? Right now?"

"For your sake, I hope that is a rhetorical question…"

"You. Are. In. A. Hospital," he said, slowly and pausing in between each word deliberately, hoping that _this _would get through to her and slowly hating himself for what he was about to do. "You were hurt. Someone came into your house and hurt you. You have a broken wrist, bruises and god knows what else. You have _not _seen them yet, but you have bruises _around_ your _neck_, do you understand that? Someone hurt you, Diane, and I'm sorry but…do you have any idea what-what kind of torture it is, seeing you on that floor, unconscious? Do you understand what kind of _hell _that was?"

Diane stared at him, fully understanding why he was behaving that way. It wasn't just the fight or the fact that she'd been hurt. It went beyond that. In the man's face, she could see remorse, regret and a whole lot of guilt. Will, in ways she could only guess, felt more responsible for what happened to her than she initially expected and, realizing that, her anger began to thaw. She didn't blame him for reacting this way, not when he was letting her see things from his point of view.

"I'm…" she stopped, shaking her head slightly. "I'm fine, Will."

"No," Will said, shaking his head as he looked at her. "You're not."

Their eyes met.

She looked away.

-o0o-

"Honey, I'm home."

Daniel walked in, bags in hand and immediately, he knew he'd walked into a minefield.

Will was standing a few feet away from the bed, looking grim and upset. On the bed, his sister sat, her lips in a thin line, eyes ever challenging and, even while propped up by pillows, still managed to get into a perfect battle stance. Daniel did the only thing he could think of to help the situation.

He whistled.

"Wow, isn't this the happiest place on earth."

Diane shot him a look, warning him, but Will stepped back, shaking his head and waving a hand dismissively, "We were just talking."

Daniel looked at Will, "You didn't listen, didn't you?"

"She…" Will began, then shook his head. "No, not really."

The older man shook his head, "Impatient much?"

Will glared at him and Daniel looked from him to his sister, "Are we playing nice, Danni?"

"We were just talking," Diane said simply.

"Yeah," Will nodded, noticing that she was still avoiding looking at him. He took it as a sign, "But it doesn't matter. We're done here."

He made a swift exit, leaving the siblings in each others presence, Daniel still standing with bags from one of his sister's favorite restaurants in the city while Diane stared at the wall in front of her, trying not to show just how upset she was.

"What?" she snapped defensively.

Daniel sighed, "You really are a pain in the ass, you know that?"

-o0o-

"Everything okay?"

Will looked up, seeing Kurt leaning against the wall, looking at him curiously.

"Yeah," he nodded, "Diane and I…just had a few things to talk about."

Kurt nodded, "Saw the work and the phone?"

Will rolled his eyes, "Yeah."

"She can't help herself," the other man said thoughtfully, "It's the way she copes…it's familiar so she's doing it. Everything's gone to hell and she doesn't know what else to do so she sticks to what she knows. It's…self-preservation."

"I know," Will nodded, "but I can't help it…she needs to rest."

"Yeah, but…" the cowboy shrugged, "Okay, I'm still getting to know her, okay? So I know I've barely scratched the surface…but if I'm allowed to guess? Maybe working helps her rest. You've known her a while…you should know that busy head of hers can't ever stop ticking."

Will nodded, "I know, but that doesn't stop me…"

"…from worrying?"

He nodded, hesitantly, avoiding the other man's eyes. He barely knew the man, yet here he was, sharing his thoughts about the person they'd both grown to care deeply about.

"It's okay to admit it, you know."

"I'm not so sure."

Kurt nodded, "She just needs to know things aren't falling apart."

"But that won't be enough," Will said, "It won't save her from herself. She'll keep pushing because…hell, if she keeps doing this…she'll kill herself. And you know it."

Kurt nodded, "Yeah, I do, but I also know a little basic fact about her..."

"What?"

"You don't push Diane Lockhart."

Will nodded, "Seems I forgot about that one."

"So…you screwed up?"

The lawyer nodded, "Sort of."

"Do you need to be anywhere else?" the older man asked.

Will shook his head, "Not really. What about you?"

"No," Kurt replied, glancing at the door beside him, "Got nowhere else to be."

"Okay."

"So…you're gonna wait out here," Kurt nodded at his direction, "And, believe me, you're gonna wait. By the look on your face, I say you pissed her off good, but…give her a while. She'll come around."

"I'm not so sure about that."

"I've seen you, most of the morning," Kurt shrugged, "You care about her. A lot."

"I do," he nodded.

Kurt stared at him for a moment, then nodded, "Caring is good and our mothers and people tell us to care, right?" He paused, "What they don't tell you is that what a _bitch _it is to care about someone who thinks they don't need anybody."

"Sounds like Diane."

"Because it is," Kurt shrugged. "Whatever you did…don't worry about it. She's just on edge. She'll get over it."

"Here's hoping," he let the corners of his lips curl up, without humor. "So…did you two get to talk?"

Kurt turned back to Will then nodded slowly, "A little."

"She let you stay," it wasn't a question.

"Until she kicked me out."

"She'll let you back in anyway," Will grinned, "So, things are okay? With you two?"

"We're…sorting things out," there wasn't much else he could say.

"That's…good," Will nodded, "I'm glad. Diane…you're different."

"Different good?" Kurt smirked, "I mean, things didn't exactly start out too well with us. With that case and all."

"Different good," Will confirmed, "And that case, well, that was different too. I saw Diane after you got together…" he paused then gave a small nod towards him, "You're good for her."

"Yeah, well," Kurt glanced at the door again, "She's good for me too."

"So does this mean you're staying?"

Kurt looked at the man again, then nodded.

"I'm staying."

-o0o-

"Damn it!"

Daniel looked up, seeing his sister trying to use her phone with one hand while she tried to let her long fingers wiggle in the confines of the cast. She wasn't used to it yet, being immobile like that and clearly, she was not happy with the situation. He sighed, reaching for the phone and snatching it out of her hand.

"Wh—HEY!"

"Eat."

"No," Diane said, glaring at her brother yet again one arm laid on her stomach, "I'm not hungry. Give me back my phone."

"Danni, come on, eat," Daniel stood by the bed, arms crossed over his chest.

"I am _not _hungry," she growled, "Now, give me my phone. I have an important—"

"Don't waste your breath," Daniel said, tucking the phone into the pocket of his pants. "I am not giving your phone back until you do something _normal _for once. Now, again, _eat_."

"Daniel, I have work to do," she said, trying to calm herself but obviously failing to do so. "Now, please, give me—"

"Look, I'm not even going to ask what you did to Will _again,_" he began, for once, letting his frustration with her show. He'd been trying to reign it in, try not to be frustrated with her after what she'd gone through, but even he could see this was getting ridiculous, "But I think, for once, _you _are the one in the wrong here, Danni. You're trying to do too much too soon, do you understand?"

"Have I suddenly stopped speaking English?" she snarled, "Have I somehow been speaking in Japanese or Chinese that everyone keeps asking me if I understand?"

Daniel smirked, "No, sister dear. _You _have been speaking in perfect English, but _that _is not the problem, alright? The problem is _you haven't stopped speaking_ and have _completely _ceased listening to anyone. Not that it's much of a surprise…"

"Daniel—"

"This is ridiculous," her brother said, "You just went through something…really bad, okay? And, Danni, nobody will think _less _of you if you take a little time to yourself." He motioned to the food, "Just…try to eat, all right? Even just a little."

"I already told you," she barked. "I am _not _hungry."

Daniel glared. He'd give her anything she wanted, but not _this_. He was there to look after her and that included not letting her starve herself to death, "I know you were in your office late _again _last night and you haven't eaten anything since…well, god knows when. You _have _to eat."

"No," she answered stubbornly. "I have an MRI scheduled and—"

"Bull," he snorted, "There are no diet restrictions to MRI's, darling and I know that for a fact. Now, stop with the excuses and _eat_."

She squinted her eyes at him, "In all the years we've been _stuck _with each other, just _how many times _were you ever able to get me to do _anything_ again?"

He smirked, "Well, nothing comes to mind, _but _the circumstances _are _different at the moment. One, you're in bed, _stuck_—and don't think I won't ask the doctors to have you restrained because I will—and two, _you_ may have _your_ one phone call but guess what, darling sister? I have one too."

Diane rolled her eyes, "Please."

"We both know there's always ever been _just one_ person who could tell you what to do…" Daniel paused, grinning stupidly. "And guess what? She _is_ waiting for my call."

She was about to make a condescending remark when she stopped, eyes wide and realizing just _who _he was talking about, "You. Wouldn't."

"Oh, wouldn't I?" he mimicked her from earlier, waving his phone. "You have your one phone call, I have mine." He glared at her, a glare very much similar to hers. "I have been giving you freedom to be anything and say anything for the last few hours, but Danni, this is getting ridiculous. Will sees it, Kurt sees it and damn it, so can I."

"Daniel—"

"So, let me play dirty and have my phone ready," he cut her off. "You won't listen to me or them so you leave me no choice."

"What—?"

"I make no light of what you went through, Danni, believe me, but…" he rubbed his hands together, "You know what? I have been waiting _decades _to be the one to make this call. It's always been _you _making _this _call because pain the ass Daniel could never behave, well, guess what, sister. You're in the dog house now too."

Diane glared at him, her phone forgotten now that she was being threatened, "As if _this _was my choice!"

"Yes, well, she really doesn't care about that now really," he smirked. "So, what's it going to be, Danni? You've got your bitch, I've got mine _but _keep in mind…mine can get here quicker."

She glared at him, for once, foiled and with as much acid she could muster she spat at him, "You're going to pay for this. _Big_."

Daniel ignored her and simply said, "Chicken or fish?"

-o0o-

"There were photos."

Will's eyebrows shot up, "What?"

Kurt looked up, curious. The sharp tone of Will's voice had gotten his attention as both of them were sitting in the waiting area again. The look on the man's face was of pure surprise with hints of anger and somehow, Kurt guessed that _this _was about Diane again.

"What are you talking about?" Will asked, oblivious to the fact that he was being observed _and _heard.

"There were photos taken, most probably with the letters," Kalinda replied. "I found some photos in her house—someone has been taking photos of her. Someone has her under surveillance."

"You're kidding."

"No and it looks professional," Kalinda paused, "Someone's been watching her."

Will looked up, catching Kurt's eyes then nodded, "Where did you find…them?"

"In her house," Kalinda replied. "She hid them.

"She hid them…" he repeated, slowly, trying to look as if Kurt's observation wasn't bothering him. "Of course…see what you can find out. I don't care what time or when, the moment you know something you let me know."

"Of course."

Will nodded, "Okay…just…find out what you can. I want to know everything."

"I'll look around."

"Good…and Kalinda?"

"Yeah?"

Will swallowed, "I need you to find out. We need to know who's behind this."

"I'm on it," she said then hung up.

Will hung up, staring at his phone, his mind reeling. He was so immersed in his thoughts that, for a moment, he'd forgotten where he was until Kurt's voice brought him right back to reality.

"Anything interesting?"

Will shook his head, "Another case…tricky one."

"Aren't most of them?" Kurt nodded, "I've seen your investigator. She's good."

"Yeah, she is," he nodded then stood up, "I have to go."

"Not staying?"

"No, something came up at work," he replied. "And you know I'll just piss her off more if I pawn _another one_ off on someone else."

Kurt grinned, "That might actually just get you back into her good books."

"Then there's hope for me yet, isn't there?" he smirked then headed towards the elevators with a small wave, leaving Kurt to watch him walk away.

Will was smiling when he left, but inside, he was beginning to feel that subtle beginning of rage. At the moment, he was a torrent of emotions and it wasn't doing him any good. And to say he was off his game was an understatement.

A part of him wondered why he was even still surprised, after everything. It had only been a day, but to him, this was beginning to feel like a week. Everything Kalinda was finding out, what the police had told him and everything else that was being brought to the table took him to a place where he was beginning to question his _lack _of professional interest in his partner's behavior.

Surely, it was odd that something like this was happening to her, that she would keep quiet about it, but the fact that she went on what was looking to be extreme lengths to _hide _what was happening? The fact that even the investigators hadn't found what Kalinda had? Will wasn't so sure anymore.

He was beginning to question _why _Diane was acting the way that she was.

It wasn't just a behavioral quirk anymore, not something that he could just comfortably say as _Diane Lockhart being Diane Lockhart_. This was big, whatever it was and he wondered if perhaps there was something she _should _have told him a long time ago.

They needed t talk and soon. It didn't help that she was still confined in bed in _a hospital_, in need of rest and recovering. Her behavior, her need to rush going back to work was another thing to consider. Will knew, if he stayed, he wouldn't be able to hold back. He needed to know so many things and, being the impatient man that he was, he knew if he didn't leave, he would end up _demanding _answers.

And from their last conversation, the last thing he needed was to start demanding things from Diane. She was angry and frustrated, two things that were more than enough to make her volatile and Will knew, facing that, he didn't stand a chance. At best, she would ban him from seeing her, at worst, well, his guess was as good as anyone's because Will knew Kurt had been right about one thing.

You don't push Diane Lockhart.

-o0o0o0o0o0o-

…_Oh, who cares?_


	13. Chapter 13:The Puppy Song

**Blackout  
**by: raileht  
**  
****Summary:** It was over. The fight in her was almost completely out and she was nearing total exhaustion. She was about to die.  
**Disclaimer: **The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.  
**Rating: **T, to be safe

**Spoilers/Timeline:** post-finale but the last scene with McVeigh and Lockhart (when she came to see him in the end) never took place in this story. Also, Eli Gold isn't in the firm and let's pretend Alicia found some other way to stay in L&G. And of course, Peter is still in jail.**  
****Warning: **Bad words and a lot of violence right from the start. Will be a somewhat dark story so people will be in pain—physical and emotional. Maybe not for the faint hearted.  
**WARNING: UNEDIT. Had no time, sorry-if there are typos, will get back to it and change.**

**NOTE: **Still reading? Oh, well. No, you didn't miss anything. Just telling you now—we're moving the story forward so we're skipping. Just a bit.

**Chapter Title taken from:**  
Harry Nilsson, _The Puppy Song_

-o0oo0oo0o-

**Chapter Thirteen: The Puppy Song**

"_Hey K, I got something for you."_

Kalinda Sharma sat back in her car, her dark clothes blending well with the shadows as she listened to the new message on her phone. She'd intentionally parked under a dim street lamp with an almost burnt out bulb, preferring not to risk being seen by anyone, knowing there were so many things that could go wrong with just one wrong turn. She needed to be even more careful than she usually was.

"…_I really don't know why I'm still doing this since clearly I've paid you back and you owe me now, but just 'cause I like you, kay?"_ she rolled her eyes, more than used to the babbling though at the moment she didn't have the patience for it. _"Anyway, your dead guy, the one that tried to off your lady boss? I got his address. It's hush-hush for now and the big guys don't have it yet and I'm giving this to you first—you owe me, pretty, and trust me, I'm gonna collect—so that's a twofer now."_

Precise even with the lack of sufficient light, she listed the address in her small notebook, committing it to memory and making sure she got it all. The message continued, _"If I lose my job over this, you better get me a spot with your bosses—you know I'm useful and I know they pay well. Just sayin', kay?"_

She rolled her eyes. _Yeah, right_.

"_The place is a fucking dive,"_ he groused, _"I suggest hazmat suit…haven't been there myself, but come on, we know the area, right? Filth city. I hate to think something a pretty as you getting all grunged up back there…although it is kind of hot now that I think about it..."_

Kalinda smirked and mentally promised to give him a beating for that—verbal, professional or physical, she wasn't sure yet, but she was sure it was going to be unpleasant. At least, for him.

"_Anyway, don't go gettin' killed,"_ he laughed, _"See you 'round, K! And happy hunting!"_

Deleting the message, Kalinda looked around, seeing the street deserted and started her car. With her headlights on and making sure no one was taking notice, she pulled out of her spot and drove off. She was pleased she had a destination in mind again and, even with the babbling, she was glad she had a reliable source. He would collect, that she knew, but this time, she wouldn't mind paying back, knowing she'd just gotten inside information even Detective De Luca didn't know yet.

Much as she respected the old man, she needed to work her case. At this point, the game was basically counting on the best man winning and Kalinda intended to do just that. It wasn't that she didn't trust the cops—they knew how to do their job—it was more on responsibility. She had a job and she intended to finish it with the best possible results she could muster. They counted on her and she wasn't about to fail, not when the stakes were so high now.

Glancing back at the street lamp, Kalinda raised an eyebrow. A few yards back, the light from the street lamp she'd just left behind had completely died.

And a part of her wondered if perhaps that was a sign.

-o0o-

"Shut up!"

Any person who has heard of Diane Lockhart and actually has an idea of _who _she was in Chicago should have known something like _this _would happen. It was just unfortunate that while Dr. Richard Nolan did indeed meet his patient prior to her admission _and _had heard of her reputation, he'd never quite had the chance to actually _see _her _other _sides.

The old doctor, experienced as he was, had expected some sort of attitude from the severely independent woman, but nothing quite like what he'd found himself walking into. He had expected protests, even a few threats, but to walk into a battle that could wipe out Gettysburg from the history books less than twenty-four hours after an operation was quite a sight indeed.

And that was why, walking into her hospital room, the old doctor actually stopped in his tracks as he found his patient sitting upright on her bed, a look of rage evident on her flushed face and her eyes shooting more than daggers at her brother who stood right across her at the foot of her bed, looking just as determined as she was. It was in this moment that he had no doubt the two were siblings.

"If you would just—"

"I said shut up!" Diane growled again. She was either too submerged in her rage to acknowledge her new visitor _or _didn't notice his presence. "Stop pushing me, Dan!"

"I wouldn't keep pushing if you'd just stop being a pain in the ass for one _goddamned_ second!" the previous happy go lucky attitude of the man was now gone, his face matching his twin's in anger and clearly showing no signs of backing down.

"Let me tell you something, _brother_," she sneered. "Just because _you _seem to think that while _this_—"

"Near death experience…?" he interrupted, sounding almost cruel. Clearly, the jolly man had reached the end of his tether for the day.

She glared, "You were always the drama queen."

"Oh, wow, thank you," the brother growled, "Thank you, really, Danni. I've just been working my ass off all day trying _not _to kill you myself—"

Dr. Nolan stepped in right then, clearing his throat loudly, stopping the male Lockhart mid sentence and having him whip around to face him, his face contorted in anger. "WHAT?"

Recognizing the man, Daniel visibly calmed, "Oh, Dr. Nolan."

"Yes, hello again, Mr. Lockhart," he turned his attention on his patient who still looked as if she was two seconds away from lunging across her bed at her sibling. "Miss Lockhart."

"What-what brings you here?" the younger man stood straighter, running his hands through his hair and visibly trying to compose himself.

"I got a call…from one of the nurses," he explained. "They tried coming in to bring my patient her dinner, but…well, let's just say you two are quite a pair."

Daniel scoffed, shooting a glare at his sister, "She's punishing me for the MRI _you _suggested. Please, now that _you _are here, explain to her that it _was _necessary."

"Oh, that was not it at all!" Diane growled from the bed. "He was—"

"Alright," Dr. Nolan said loudly, raising his hands at the bickering duo. "With all due respect, I honestly cannot care enough to know who started what, but I am willing to say that whatever this was, I am _ending _it. Right now." He shook his head, "God, you two are like children."

"Excuse me?" Diane said, aghast and with clear ire.

"Miss Lockhart, you _are _recovering from surgery and a few other injuries," the doctor ignored her protest. "I've been informed that you've managed to sneak in some work into this room _and _even managed to get your hands on a phone."

He paused, waiting to see if she would deny it but since she hadn't, he nodded and went on, "Now, let me just say this. I am going to let you _keep _those—"

"_Excuse me? _You have no right—"

Dr. Nolan stopped her with a wag of his pointer finger, "Ah, but I _do_. And you _know _I do."

Daniel snorted though he immediately covered it with a cough. Diane shot him a glare but the doctor was quick to divert her attention back to him. He needed her to understand he meant business.

"As I said, I _will _allow you to keep those, seeing as if I take them, you'll just manage to get them back," he said with a knowing look. "_But _if I hear that you are overdoing it, keep in mind that I will _not _hesitate to take them away _and _strongly suggest sedation for you."

The woman's mouth opened a little, a look of outrage masking her face yet again, "How dare—"

"It will be considered a _medical _advice, Miss Lockhart," he said, almost solemnly. "And believe me, I sincerely do not want to have to resort to such…_extreme_ measures, but I will, if you leave me no choice. You are still in need of much recovery and rest."

"I _am_ resting," she gritted out, feeling annoyed that someone _else—_a total stranger to boot—was taking a liberty in taking away what they _thought _they had a right to take away from her. Internally, she seethed at their daring.

"But not quite enough," the doctor replied. "Not to mention this little..._talk _is causing you some undue stress. You cannot relax with this, Miss Lockhart…which, of course, brings me to you," he turned to the brother who was smiling smugly, "_Mr._ Lockhart."

"Yes, doctor?" Daniel looked every bit as the obedient little teacher's pet, complete with puffed up chest and smug grin.

"I've been getting reports of what you and my patient have been doing," he looked at the man sternly. "And I will tell you now…it ends here. No more fighting or teasing or causing _more _stress or ire in this room. _If _I hear that you two have started yet another one of your _talks_, believe me, I will have to ask security to personally remove you—family or not."

"_What? _You're kidding, right?"

"You're causing my patient stress," the doctor went on. "Something she does NOT need—a fact I can't seem to stress enough to all of you—so, I am advising you now, _stop_. Whatever you two used to enjoy doing as children, stop it now. This is a hospital, I have my patient to prioritize and _both of you_—yes, ironically, _patient_ included—are _not _helping."

He looked at the two, his kind face now stern and every bit the authoritarian he was intending to be at the moment. He'd never had children, but he'd handled his nieces and nephews enough times in the past to know how to deal with their behavior. It was ironic, telling this to two adults off, but he didn't voice that out. They just needed a good talking to, like two naughty children.

And inside, the doctor was glad this simple child rearing technique was working on them. He hadn't expected it would, but it seemed even big bad lawyer Diane Lockhart _could _be somewhat tamed. He assumed it was the threat of taking away her work _and _sedation. Or something else entirely—he wouldn't presume to know her at this point at any rate. Whatever made her listen, he was glad either way. He couldn't have her relapsing or going through any adverse effects from all the fighting.

"I will be getting the results tomorrow morning," Dr. Nolan said, after a pause. "For now, I'd like to have Miss Lockhart eat her dinner as, I've also been informed, she barely ate her lunch." He motioned for the door, "We have some…food from our kitchen, but if you'd like to order out again, we won't stop you. As long as my patient eats, I don't care where it's from."

"Especially since hospital food is disgusting," Daniel muttered.

"Daniel!"

"Miss Lockhart."

The three exchanged looks and, after a beat, Diane sat back, crossing her arms and looking decidedly ready to explode. The doctor read her look and body language to be conceding—thought not without a healthy amount of resentment—so he nodded, appeased by her temporary surrender and turned to Daniel.

"You'll take care that she eats or do I have to sit and make sure you two don't kill each other?"

"This stopped being amusing two minutes ago," the man pointed out.

The doctor gave him a look.

Daniel sighed, "It's eerie how you can so easily channel our father…were you friends?"

"Sadly, no, I never had the honor of meeting him," the doctor said honestly. "Although, from what just transpired, something tells me we would have gotten along quite well."

The tall man nodded, "Indeed you would have."

Dr. Nolan nodded with a smile, satisfied he'd managed to stop the storm for now and turned to his patient again, reaching for the stethoscope around his neck, "Now that I'm here, why don't we get this check up out of the way so you can have your dinner and rest some more?"

Diane barely managed to suppress the urge to roll her eyes.

"I'll go…order take out again," Daniel said, waving slightly and left the room. "Del Monico's okay?"

She gave him a look and, realizing he wasn't quite as forgiven yet, Daniel nodded sheepishly and left the room. Diane sighed, sitting back and staring up at the ceiling.

"I should say, I'm not going to apologize for setting boundaries you so clearly need," the doctor said, taking a seat next to the bed. "Although, I am willing to apologize for the way I handled it."

"You don't have to," the woman replied after a pause. "You were…right. We weren't behaving like adults."

"Mhm," the doctor nodded. "I spoke with one of my fellows, Dr. Andrews—he was the one who supervised your MRI this afternoon."

She shifted uncomfortably on the bed, looking away.

"Your brother obviously doesn't know _why _you're so angry about the procedure, but," he leaned back. "I was informed about it and I know this goes _beyond_ what _my _job entails, but I am offering to lend an ear…in case you'd like to talk about it with someone who can somewhat relate."

"I honestly don't," Diane replied coldly.

"I understand, Miss Lockhart," the doctor said carefully, knowing he was stepping into a minefield. "Considering your ordeal and with everything still so fresh, we actually expected your reaction…or rather, _any_ sort of reaction."

She didn't reply for a moment and instead sat in silence. He kept his silence observing her and, as he'd expected, she'd broke the silence after only a few seconds with a frustrated grunt.

"Please, can we just skip to the check up and get it over with?" she sniped, still avoiding looking at the doctor on her side. "I don't mean to be rude, but I am honestly not thrilled to be here."

"Not too many people are," Dr. Nolan nodded, "All right then, but keep in mind, Miss Lockhart that I am here, if you'd like to talk…we don't expect you go through something like this and be left emotionally and psychologically unscathed."

He sighed and stood up, ready to begin, "Sadly, with things like this…it is not only the body that suffers."

She didn't reply, instead, turned to look at the older man, staring at him for a moment before looking away again, "Just…get it over with. Please."

Her voice had softened, but Diane found that she still didn't want to look at him, not when at that very moment, the old doctor reminded her too much of her father. She didn't like it—no, she _hated _it.

Wordlessly, Dr. Nolan began and Diane remained silent, speaking only when she was spoken to though even then she barely responded. Her mind was reeling and the emotions she wanted to pretend were _not _there were beginning to make her feel a little sick. This was getting too surreal in so many ways and she was beginning to feel suffocated, just as she'd felt during the MRI.

_No_, she thought, but then it was too late.

Remembering what happened that afternoon only made her heart beat faster, the memories bringing back the same feeling of suffocation and panic that had driven her into a fit. She had closed her eyes, trying to lie still as she'd been told to do, but then, before she could stop any of it from coming, the memories assaulted her, rushing to her like a freight train and she couldn't do anything to stop it.

Everything poured in and before she could bring her mind back to a more rational state, she was panicking already. It was like when she'd remembered, when Daniel had been with her when she woke up. The same feelings, the same rush of emotions—all of it, the whole of it had been a repeat of those painful moments.

Diane's frantic movements had stopped the procedure short and the doctor and a nurse had gone in to help her, pulling her out and had tried to calm her. She'd felt the fear through and through, but once it was over, she suddenly felt embarrassed for such a stupid reaction. She waved them off, breathing in deeply and telling them to do it again.

Her fit had left everyone to do the whole all over again, though the second time around, she'd been sure never to close her eyes as she'd done before. She laid still and didn't move a muscle, blocked out the horrendous sounds that were coming from the horrid contraption and white knuckled through the whole thing. She even tried not to blink as much as possible.

Now, the feeling was returning, though this time, Diane had more control of her mind and her memories, blocking everything as much as she possibly could. The bastard was dead, she reminded herself again and again, and there would be no lawsuit and that meant she wouldn't _have to _remember anymore. As far as she was concerned, it was over. It was up to her to put it all behind her and she was doing just that.

She was strong, she knew that, and she knew she could beat this. All she had to do was try to recapture the control she'd always had. It was just a matter of staying focused and reminding herself what was real and what wasn't. Fears were ridiculous anyway and they were irrational, especially hers. The man was dead—there was nothing left to fear. She just had to get over it. Simple as that.

Diane wasn't about to let some psychopath son of a bitch ruin her or her life. She'd built everything she had from the ground and she couldn't let all that just topple over because of something that was not at all her fault. She was so much better than that.

She was ready to move on and wanted nothing more than to do that, as soon as possible.

If Dr. Nolan had noticed the change in her heartbeat and her breathing, he didn't mention too much of it, other than talking about her blood pressure, getting more sleep and resting. It was imperative, according to the good doctor, that she get the much needed rest so her body could heal. He stressed the point again and again, Diane had almost been tempted to tell him off.

But she'd managed to control herself and could only nod as an answer, even though in her mind, Diane had reached a decision altogether different from what her doctor was ordering.

She was going to rest, if only to get better sooner and get the hell out, but there was no way in hell she was sleeping. She was going to avoid that, as much as possible. Diane wasn't closing her eyes, not until she absolutely had to.

All she had to do was control herself.

-o0o-

"Will, I _can't_."

"Come on, Alicia, _please_," the persistence in his voice clearly told the woman there was no way he was letting this one go. "Just…once, okay? I swear just…just for tonight."

"This is crazy," she shook her head, clearly tired though even she wasn't about to give in. She liked to think she wasn't _that _easy. "Please, don't make me do this."

"Just once and then…" he paused, rubbing the back of his neck. "Then I'll owe you."

"What?" she raised an eyebrow, "How?"

"Like…huge," he made a big gesture with both hands, "Just…please, Alicia—I need you."

She looked at him sternly for one moment, observing him and immediately picked up on the desperation that was clearly etched on his face and in his voice. She sighed, wondering why she was always the one to fall into things like this. She was a good person, or at least, she tried always to be, and that was a lot more than she could say than others, so why was she the one who kept getting into things like _this_?

Alicia was sure someone _up there_ had it in for her and got a perverse joy out of screwing with her.

"Come on, just this _once_," Will raised a finger, as if to emphasize the point. "And I won't ask you for anything else ever again."

She gave him a look that clearly said she wasn't buying it.

"Okay, okay," Will waved his hand as he rounded his desk. "How about…I let you pick a case, any case in the future. Think of it as…something like a one phone call thing."

Alicia looked at him, "You mean like…if you hand me another case like Sweeney, I get to say no?"

"Yes, on _one _case," he said, nodding as he stood in front of her.

"Wow," she grinned, her souring mood disappearing as she allowed her see how amusing the situation was. "You really don't want to do this, huh?"

"No," he said quickly, shaking his head as he leaned against his desk, arms crossed over his chest. "It's not that." She gave him a look, "Really, no. I just…my building doesn't allow dogs."

"Really?" she said dubiously, "And what makes you think mine does?"

He grinned sheepishly, "I checked."

"Oh, wow," she said sarcastically. "That's…that's something. Thank you, Will. For the initiative."

"So…is that a yes?" he smiled hopefully.

"Why me?" she asked, her curiosity getting the best of her. "I've only ever…_met_ the dog once and, frankly, I'm not a dog person." She shifted uncomfortably next to him, "And besides…Diane and I aren't exactly _close_."

"I can't just pawn off Justice to someone," Will explained, "And yes…you're not close, _but _she trusts you."

Alicia rolled her eyes and let out a laugh, "Oh, come on. If you're going to lie to me, Will, you could do better. You're a lawyer, for god's sake."

"She _does_," Will insisted, "You've proven yourself and she knows you're smart, competent and capable."

"And that qualifies me to be a dog-sitter how…?"

He chuckled, "No, but it does make you the best possible candidate to take in her beloved pooch. Come on, just once. I swear, if Justice wreaks havoc, I'll pay for it and take him off your hands."

Alicia sighed, "Will…"

He straightened up, realizing she still wasn't sure about doing him this favor. Bribery didn't work, flattery didn't get him anywhere far and now, he was _truly _desperate. What was left but pity?

"Diane will _kill_ me if I leave Justice with just anyone," he said honestly. "She would, Alicia, and I swear, it's not going to be fun. She'll literally kill me."

"For a dog."

"Would you leave your kids with just anyone?"

"It's a dog."

"But not to Diane," he said, "I'm not kidding, Alicia. She loves that dog." He stopped, "Besides, maybe your kids might like dogs? I mean, think of it as a test run, you know? Maybe they'll want a dog too."

Alicia glared at them, "They _do_, which is why I _don't _want one. I'll end up taking care of it."

"Oh," Will said, deflated, "Well…uh, okay then…"

He pushed himself off his desk, walking away from her and rounding his desk again without another word. Curious, Alicia watched him warily,

"What? That's it?"

Will stopped, looking up at her, "Yeah. That's it. You don't want the dog, that's…okay."

"But…what will happen to Justice?" she asked, suspicious.

"He's signed up for a doggy day care not too far from here," he shrugged, "They allow pets to be housed there sometimes. Diane did it, once, when she had to go out of town."

"Doggy day care?" Alicia echoed, "If you could do that…why ask me?"

"Well," Will sat down, lacing his fingers together as he sat back, "Justice doesn't like it there all that much. He sulked for a few days when Diane came back…I mean, can you blame the little guy? Caged all three days with no one to pet him and shower him affection as he's used to?"

Alicia raised her eyebrows, "We _are _still talking about a dog, right?"

Will gave him a small smile, "Did you _never _have a dog when you were a kid?"

"No," she answered, "I had a brother, that was enough."

"Then that explains it," he nodded. "Dogs are like kids, Alicia. They're…needy, clingy, playful and, if you're lucky, they'll love you forever."

"But _sulking_," Alicia repeated, "Dogs _sulk_?"

"Yes, and trust me," Will shook his head, "Diane's dog can _really _sulk."

Alicia thought for a moment, "They really put the dogs in cages?"

Will nodded, "What else can they do?"

"What about Diane's family? Her brother? Kalinda said he's—"

"Oh, no," Will shook his head, "He's not too keen on taking in the dog…not until Diane's around and, if I got the right impression, she doesn't quite trust him with Justice either."

"So…that leaves me."

"Well…yes," Will nodded. "I mean, he's a good dog, Alicia. Well trained and he doesn't bite and…very cute?"

She didn't reply and instead, sat down, wondering perhaps if she was insane to even think about taking this one. She wasn't a dog person, or at the very least, never had a dog herself. Back in Highland Park, she didn't let her daughter have a dog for the sole reason that she didn't want to end up taking care of it herself and back then, she didn't even have a full time job. What more now when she had a full work load, an apartment in the city and no back or front yard for pets?

Yes, she had to be insane to even consider this. Yet, she was.

Will watched her closely, though he tried to appear nonchalant and resigned. He waited, counting the seconds in his head. He could practically see her mind working, weighing the pros and cons and he hoped to god the pros were winning, whatever they were.

A few seconds more, the smoothening of her brow was a sure sign to Will that she'd finally reached a decision and he found himself holding his breath.

"One case, full veto power," Alicia stipulated firmly, this time, it was her turn to raise a finger at him. "_And _if that dog ruins anything, you _will_ pay for it."

"So, that's a yes?"

"_One a trial basis,_" she raised her finger higher, "_And _if that dog turns my house upside down, you collect him the moment I call and I _still _get that veto right. Deal?"

"Crystal," he grinned and reached for his phone, "Hello? Uh, yeah. Bring him in."

"Wait, what? Now?" Alicia asked, standing up just as the doors opened and Will's assistant, Kate, came in, carrying a basket.

"Hello, Mrs. Florrick," Kate smiled, "Sorry, poor Justice is a little tired…he's done nothing but sleep all day. I think he's a little sad. Must miss be missing his mommy."

Alicia gave Will, who was grinning, a dubious look, "Mommy."

"Yeah," he grinned then turned to his assistant, "Thanks, Kate. Just put him here and could you please bring the rest of his things?"

"Of course," Kate smiled, petting the small dog one last time before heading out again.

"Things?" Alicia echoed.

"Yes," Will turned to her, "Water bowl, dog food, leash? Basic dog stuff. Diane keeps a set of them in her office so you're lucky you don't have to go out and buy them anymore."

Alicia looked down on the seat next to the one she'd vacated where the basket had been placed. The small furry dog was sprawled on the dark blue pillow with a bandage wrapped around his midsection. Deep brown eyes glanced at her, but didn't react and Alicia was surprised, remembering just how exuberant and playful the pooch had been when she'd first met him. Now, the dog was silent and resigned, as if he was _truly _sad.

She leaned down, scratching Justice behind the ears, "What happened to him?"

"They think someone kicked him," Will replied.

Alicia nodded, "Poor guy."

"Yeah," Will nodded. "Diane'll really appreciate this."

Alicia rolled her eyes, "You can stop now. I'm saying yes already."

He chuckled, "I know, but I thought it was worth saying again."

"Mhm," she glanced at him, "Will?"

"Yeah?"

"If Grace starts asking me for a dog again," she gave him a serious look. "You're going to owe me _bigger_."

Will grinned, "Gotcha."

-o0o-

"You really don't have to stay."

Kurt looked up, "I know. But I'm staying anyway."

"But—"

"You can't talk me out of it, Diane," he said, interrupting her protests. "I already checked into a hotel and grabbed a few things from my place. It's done."

Diane bit the inside of her cheek, "You really don't have to do any of this…"

"I know," he nodded, slowly and leaned forward, taking her hand in his, "But I want to so, please, stop trying to talk me out of this. It's just a waste of time and effort. You need to rest up."

She rolled her eyes, "Not you too."

Kurt grinned, "Yeah, _me too._ Come on, I know you don't want to be fussed on, but just for now, okay?"

"He says it like I have a choice," she mumbled bitterly, earning herself a laugh.

"Just trying to help," he said. "Now, I know you've eaten, but are you sure you don't want anything else? You didn't eat much."

"I ate enough," she answered. "I just…can I have my phone back? I really just need to check if—"

"No," he shook his head, "I'm sorry, but you're done, okay? You finished that stack of papers your assistant brought in and you've personally called your important clients—you're done for the day."

She frowned at him, "You're not as nice you led me to believe."

Kurt chuckled, "Sorry. That's my fault—I care too much, see? I hear that can be a bad thing." He looked around, curious. "Where's Daniel?"

He'd noticed the other man's absence, but the fact that there was dinner from one of Diane's preferred restaurants in the city told him he'd been there shortly before.

Kurt had to leave after Diane assured him she'd be fine during the MRI. He'd had to go home and check on things after he'd left in a haste and quickly put together a bag. He wasn't intending on leaving her side any time soon but it would be impractical if he commuted from the city to his home every day so he grabbed a set of clothes, a few more things he needed and left, leaving his place in the hands of his trusted caretaker. He wasn't sure when he would be back but at least he was sure his home was in safe hands.

The prospect of being away from his home wasn't at all pleasant of course, but the reason to stay in the city was enough to make him forget his discomfort at the moment. Diane was going to need someone, whether she admitted it or not (knowing her, it was most likely the latter),and he was ready to share his time with her. He was glad he had nothing pressing at the moment—he'd just finished a big case in Philadelphia and he was glad that one was over. He wouldn't have known what to do, had he been caught between the job and _this_.

"I don't know," Diane answered. "And right now, I don't care."

_Uh-oh_, he thought. "Why?"

She looked at him and immediately he guessed her sudden aversion to her brother, "Oh."

"It was his fault," she was quick to add.

"Mhm," he nodded. "So…did he go home?"

"Yes," Diane nodded, "I kicked him out. He deserved it."

"Did he…make you angry?"

"Yes," she said simply, "But he'll be back tomorrow. Trust me."

"Okay," he nodded. "What do you wanna do?"

She opened her mouth but he raised his hand, "Anything but work."

Diane smiled a little, "You know, you don't know me as well as you think you do."

"No, I don't." he agreed, "But I still know you were gonna say work…or something related to work."

She smiled, shaking her head slightly, "You're talking."

"Yeah, so?" he asked, absentmindedly playing with her fingers with his hand as he looked at her, grinning.

"Whatever happened to that silent cowboy?"

"You called him selfish," he shrugged, "So he thought he should do something about it."

She snorted, "Cute."

"Thought so," he replied. "Now, since I'm here…why don't we do something about my not knowing you as well as I think I do?"

"What do you have in mind?" she asked, her eyes traveling to their hands, now entwined and she smiled, gently tapping her pointer finger against his knuckle.

He shrugged, "Nothing much, but…wanna talk?"

She smiled, "Talk?"

"Yeah, you know," he shrugged, "I say something, you say something back and then we try to stick to one topic, get sick of it and move on to another?"

Diane chuckled, "Oh, that. Yeah, I think I've done something like that before."

"It's pretty easy," he said, "But there is _one _problem…"

"Oh?" she raised an eyebrow.

"It's nothing," he waved a hand dismissive hand in the air, "It's just that I've been told that…well, that I'm really boring so…yeah, that gonna be a problem?"

He smiled when she let out a small laugh, "No, really. I am. I can _literally _put you to sleep."

Diane's laughter echoed in the room, "You weren't boring the last time we talked." She stopped, "I mean, uhm…when we went out…you know."

He smiled, "Oh, that? Nah. That was me showing off. Just a one off thing, you know?"

"One off?" she shook her head, "No. You should do that more often. I like talking to you."

"Not boring?"

"Oh, not at all," she said with a solemn shake of her head.

He chuckled, "Then what do you wanna talk about?"

She smiled, removing her hands from his hold and reaching forward to run her hand through his hair, "Tell me something I don't know."

"That's a lot."

Diane shrugged, "I've got all night."

-o0o-

_Home sweet home_, Kalinda thought.

She stood at the threshold of an abandoned old building on the west side of the city where most of the inhabitants were impoverished and/or struggling with their day to day lives. The building the address had led her to was rundown apartment that was quite obviously dingy and in desperate need of repairs although it was still quite obvious that the place was still full of people.

On the outside the whole place looked as if only a fool would live in it, but when Kalinda stepped through the front door, she actually heard signs of activity within its walls and even a sound of a child crying. In the first hall that greeted her, she could hear the faint echo of a television, a few raised voices and, though she couldn't be sure if it was real or not, a barking of a dog.

Encountering the first door with the sign "super" written on it, she knocked, a story already concocted in her head that would most likely get her through to Mark Jackson's door without fuss.

"Whadya want?" an obviously slightly inebriated man grouched as the door opened, dressed in what was once a white shirt with the sleeves cut off and a pair of boxers.

"I'm looking for Mark Jackson," she said, trying to sound polite and a little intimidated.

"Don' know, don' care," the man rumbled before making a move to close the door.

"Please!" Kalinda implored, placing her gloved hand on the door to stop him from closing it, "I'm looking for my kid sister and…the last guy she was going out with was Mark. I heard he was here…and-and I've been looking for my sister for months now…maybe-maybe she's with him?"

"What was yer kid sister doin' with a bum like that?" the man asked, squinting his bloodshot eyes at the much smaller woman.

"We're not sure, but she was very angry," Kalinda feigned sadness, "She was rebellious, wanted to teach us a lesson, but she just went too far…now we can't find her. Please, I-I just have to know…maybe she was here."

The man grumbled, "Jackson's been ou' since last night, don' know when he'll be back."

"Oh?" Kalinda blinked, "Could I just…uhm, look around? Maybe she's been there, I don't know…I'd like to see if she left anything, any sign she was there at all?"

"I ain't seen Jackson with a woman," the man muttered, "Bum's been in and out in all hours of d'night…screw up, that one. If yer kid sister's with him, then yer in trouble…" he scratched his five o'clock shadow, "Then again, he did pay three months' worth o'rent…can't be all that bad now, right?"

"Three months?" Kalinda repeated, ignoring the stupid grin on his face. "Advance?"

"He was behind a couple o'months, but he paid for those too," the man shrugged, "Must've come to some money…don' care s'long as I git me money."

Kalinda nodded, "Okay…but can I look around? I just have to see…" she looked down then, for effect, looked at the man through her long dark lashes, "Please?"

The older man looked at her then, rolled his eyes. "Fine," he almost growled, shaking his head and grabbing a set of keys and—to her surprise—a ratty old robe from just inside the door, "Never could resist a pretty face…"

Kalinda hid a smile, following the older man as he lumbered up the steps, taking her to the second floor of the building and continued to ramble on about being a sucker for beautiful women. She maintained the look of distress on her face, playing on the part of the worried sister.

Slipping the keys into the lock, the landlord let her in, pushing the door open and revealing a poor bum's version of a bachelor's pad. "Here ya go…sure you wanna git in there? Smells like somethin' died in there…"

Kalinda nodded, biting her bottom lip as she pretended to look sad, "Yes, yes…I just have to see."

"Suit yeself," the man mumbled.

"Thank you so much," she breathed, giving him yet another look from under her lashes and the effect was quite visible as the man's old lined face softened just a little, his bloodshot eyes clearing if only for a moment.

"Yeah, yeah," the man rumbled, heading towards the door. "I'm headin' down. If Jackson comes in, I'll try to hold him off, but ya better make sure yer gone by then. Guy's nuts—been outta the pen a few times already, the bum…if he catches ye, I had nothin' ta do with it, ya hear?"

"Yes, yes, I'll be quick," Kalinda answered, sounding more grateful than she should. "Thank you again, Mr…?"

"Clyde," he mumbled then left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

And as easy as slipping off a mask, the grateful smile that adorned the woman's face only seconds before fell the moment the door closed. She stood there for a few moments, watching the closed door to make sure he wasn't returning any time soon. At least she didn't have to worry about the occupant, not when he was busy playing dead in the morgue all the way across the city.

Satisfied that she had the place alone, Kalinda went on with her work, pulling open drawers and looking through scraps papers and piles of clothes. Entering the small bedroom, she didn't have to look further to find out just _where _the man of the house had gotten his money to pay for his rent.

In the bottom of the rickety bedside drawer were piles of pictures.

And in every single one of them was Diane Lockhart.

-o0o-

"What is that _thing_ you're carrying?"

The appalled voice of Alicia's mother-in-law was enough to get both of her children out of their bedrooms in a flash and she saw them both enter the room just as she was struggling to carry the basket of the still quite resigned dog named Justice.

"Guys," she grunted, balancing the basket, the bag full of pooch paraphernalia and her own purse and file case, "A little help…?"

Zach was first to react, letting out a laugh when he saw just _what _was nestled inside the basket that got his grandmother upset, "Mom, you got a dog!"

"What?" Grace rushed over, leaning over her brother's shoulder and immediately, Alicia knew Will was going to pay _bigger _the next day as she saw her daughter's face melt. "Aw, mom, he's so cute!"

"He's not _mine_," Alicia said as her son took the basket off her hands and placed it on the ground. Both of her children perched over the basket, Grace cooing at the little furry thing while Zach looked on.

"He's hurt!" her daughter pointed out, gall clear in her young voice. "Mom, tell me you didn't run him over!"

"Of course I didn't!" Alicia exclaimed, surprised then, feeling the burning eyes of Jacqueline Florrick's behind her head, she turned to the older woman, "It's just temporary, Jackie. One of our partners, Diane—"

"Lockhart! The woman who was attacked today?" the horror on the woman's face was evident. "Oh my, that was your boss, wasn't it? I asked Zach and Grace, but they didn't tell me anything. You took in your dead boss' dog? Oh, Alicia! Honestly!"

"No, no!" Alicia said, waving her hands as if that would perish the thought from the woman's mind, "Not dead, no. She's alive and well. She's recovering right now, but there was no one else to take the dog—"

"What's his name?" Grace piped up, smiling happily from the ground as with gentle hands, she cradled the now awake dog in her lap.

"Justice," Alicia said then shook her head, "Grace, put him down. He's hurt."

"He's okay," Grace said without looking at her, "Aren't you, Justice? You're okay now, aren't you?"

The dog responded to her gentle coaxing hands, his little black nose nuzzling against her fingers with his big brown eyes watching the girl's movement. Alicia didn't voice her amazement—she had tried to get the dog to respond to her a barely got an annoyed exhale before giving up altogether. She'd been so sure the dog had decided she wasn't worth his attention, not when he was playing the wounded.

"Mom, he looks so sad," Grace sighed. "I think he's a little shy…or scared."

Alicia suppressed a groan, wondering why she let herself fall into this one. This was a bad idea, she'd known it, yet she did it anyway. Why? She wasn't sure.

"That's a pretty cool name for a dog," Zach said, unable to suppress the smile on his face as he reached out to scratch the dog behind the ear. "The one who hurt your boss…hurt Justice too?"

Alicia nodded, "Yes, but he's going to be okay."

"How long is he staying?" Zach asked since his sister was obviously too enamored by the dog to participate in the conversation further. In the background, both mother and son ignored the puttering old woman in the kitchen, clearly displeased with the situation. Occasionally, they heard her made a comment or two, but chose to ignore her instead.

"Just for tonight," she replied, biting her bottom lip. "Maybe, we're not sure yet, but if Justice proves to be a problem then I'm going to have to get—"

"He won't be a problem," Grace suddenly said from her position on the ground, cradling the small dog against her chest protectively. "He'll be good, mom. Promise. I'll-I'll watch him. He won't even bother grandma."

"I should hope so!" the old woman interject from the kitchen. "And I am _not _cooking for that-that _thing_."

"He has his own food," Alicia called back, smiling at her daughter who looked a lot happier than she'd had in quite a while. She was sure Grace hadn't smiled like that in ages. "You won't mind watching him?"

Zach snorted, "Your boss will be lucky to get him back."

Alicia gave Grace a look, "He's only here for a while, Grace, okay? He's not ours."

"I know," her daughter replied as she stood up, carefully carrying the little dog in her arms. "He can stay with me. I'll feed and take good care of him, promise."

She cradled the dog closer to her and Justice was all too content to protest or move away. Alicia suppressed another tired sigh that threatened to come out. Suddenly, she was feeling very exhausted and she was pretty sure it had nothing to do with her somewhat eventful day at the office.

"Grace?" Alicia said again, a warning tone in her voice.

"I know," she replied, looking completely innocent though even Alicia knew she was already head over heels in love with the dog. "Not mine, just for a while and all that. I know."

"Okay, good," Alicia nodded and reached out to place a hand on her cheek. "Now, I'm going to go and wash up. If you need anything for Justice, it's in that bag by the door."

"Okay," Grace smiled happily, "Thanks, mom."

Zach glanced at the door, "That's a…isn't that an expensive bag?"

Alicia smiled at her son, "Designer yes…my boss loves her dog very much."

Grace nodded, cuddling Justice against her and cooing, "And who wouldn't?"

She turned away from her mother and brother, heading towards her room and cooing at the dog, showering it with affection. Zach called after her, "Grandma."

Grace ignored him and closed the door to her bedroom while from the kitchen came a once again gentle, "Yes, dear?" as Jackie answered. Both Alicia and Zach suppressed a laugh as she hugged him close and kissed him on the forehead.

"Mom?" Zach said as he pulled back.

"Yeah?"

"Your boss really should say goodbye to her dog," Zach commented as he headed to his own room, "Grace isn't going to let Justice go, you know."

The smile on Alicia's face faded as she considered her son's words. Grace's smiling face came back to her and at once, Alicia knew it was going to be quite a feat detaching her from the tiny animal. It was only one night, but even she wouldn't underestimate the power of a cute dog over a somewhat lonely girl.

Alicia sighed and headed towards her room.

Will was definitely going to pay big time.

-o0o-

"You son of a bitch!"

He paced back and forth in his bedroom, a glass of scotch in one hand and the other pressed his phone to his ear. His steps were erratic, unmeasured and tended to cross every now and then, the pattern of his walk unclear and clearly affected by his heavy emotions.

"What did you do!" he growled, uncaring that he was raising his voice. He was home alone and the only one who would be hearing him was the person on the other line. He didn't care—the bastard deserved it anyway.

"What are you talking about?" the other man said gruffly on the other side. "Are you drunk?"

"Was this your work?" he snarled. "Did you _do_ this?"

"What?" he heard the man groan, "Look, I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"Don't play stupid—we are _beyond _bullshitting," he growled. "This _isn't _what we talked about! You _said _we wouldn't be traced, you said _nothing _would be linked back to me!"

"I haven't even done anything except what you told me to do—"

"I did _not _tell you to attack, I had no such orders!"

"Oh, that," the man said, sounding nonchalant. "Yeah, it's been on the news all day. Tough break, eh?"

"Tough br—" the man sputtered, clenching the hand that was holding his glass and shaking with fury so badly, he spilled his drink into his carpeted floors. "Listen here, you sniveling little psychopath—"

"Aw, don't hold back now," the other man laughed. "Look, it wasn't me."

"Did you hire someone?" he asked, flat out and serious. He stopped mid-stride, standing right in front of his bed and breathing erratically. "Answer me._ Did you hire someone?_"

"I did, but—"

"YOU STUPID SON OF A BITCH!"

"Hey! Calm the fuck down!" the other man ordered, apparently no longer amused over the man's distress. "Calm down! I hired someone, but it wasn't to kill _or _to hurt the woman, okay? I just hired someone to look around, _like you asked me to_."

"You had nothing to do with this?" he snarled, breathing heavily then downed what was left of his drink, feeling the satisfying burn of the liquid all the way down his throat. He needed the burn, it kept him focused. He needed to focus—_desperately_.

"No. Jesus Christ. You pay me more than enough, I'm not about to hang you," the man answered. "You're my best paying customer right now, see?"

"Then who did this?"

"I don't know."

"Find out," he snarled. "I want to know _who _did this."

"You're kidding," the man snorted through the line. "You wanted to take her out and now that she might be outta your way, you wanna figure out who dun it? What? Wanna send them a thank you card?"

"Just do it, damn it!"

"Whatever man, it's your dime," the man laughed. "But come on, what's up with the bitch anyway? You were so pissed, now you sound like you wanna get the guy who tried to whack her. What gives?"

"That is _none _of your concern," he gritted his teeth, "Just do as I say and for god's sake—do it _quietly_. If I wanted some moron lugging around the city, I would have hired that dumbass Dixon. I'm paying you _above _your fees already, damn it. I want results."

"I've been tryin' to get them, but she's clean," the man explained. "Aside from that guy she was sleeping with, there's nothing on the woman."

"There's _something_," he mumbled. "Find it—I don't care how far you have to go back. Just find it!"

"You're insane, you know that?" the man chuckled, his warm laughter filtering through the line. "But whatever, man. The bitch's really under your skin."

"Did I hire you for your commentary?" he snarled.

"'Course not," the man answered. "But what's got your panties in a twist anyway? Cops come knocking on your door today?"

"Yes," he gritted his teeth. "Something about the flowers I sent."

"Well, here's one happy motherfucker," the man taunted. "You're blamin' me for something _you _did? Jeez, man. Thanks. I feel the love."

"Shut up!"

"So, you sent flowers," the innuendo was heavy in his voice. "So this is a love thing, eh?"

"No, just picked the wrong time to smooth out some ripples I caused…" he mumbled.

"Ah, the shit that started the whole thing," the man drawled. "Let it go man. Just take the bitch out and get it over with. Jeez."

"No," he replied solidly. "Especially not after this—this was _not _my original intent to begin with. You know why I hired you and whatever happened, _if _it really isn't the result of your_ initiative_, then I am not about to go down that road."

"Then what the hell you payin' me for?"

"Again, none of your concern," he said dismissively. "Just do the job I hired you to do. And watch your back—that bitch investigator of theirs is sniffing around, I'm sure of it."

"I know her," the man laughed. "Hot chick—crazy as hell, but hot."

"Just do it," he growled, his patience once again wearing thin. "And just let me tell you now—if you fucked with me and I find out _this _was your fault, you're a dead man, do you hear me?"

"Loud and clear," the man said, though there was still a jocular tone to his voice, "_Boss_."

He hung up, tossing his phone onto his bed and heading towards the bottle of scotch he'd left sitting on the table in the corner of the room. He poured himself a generous amount and didn't hesitate to down the drink in one gulp, savoring the burn again as he tried to calm himself down.

He wasn't completely reassured yet, but somehow, the fact that the bastard was denying having anything to do with the whole thing was a step forward. He'd hired the man for an altogether different reason and _if _the whole mess of the day was indeed his fault, then he would be more than glad to make sure his promise would be fulfilled. No one screwed around with him, helpful or not, because a fuck up was a fuck up.

Kicking off his shoes and ripping off his tie, he sighed raggedly, sitting back on his bed and wondering just _how _he'd gone wrong. He'd picked the wrong time to put in motion what he'd been planning on doing for months. He should have waited, he knew that now. He blamed his impatience.

But he also blamed himself for hiring the loose cannon for a job. He should have chosen better, that much he was realizing now. He'd been blinded by the man's efficiency, of the glowing reviews he got. He'd failed to get the fast and loose cowboy-like ways the man tended to conduct his business with. He shouldn't have hired him—not when he couldn't control him enough and now, here he was, wondering if perhaps his own pawn had gone too far. Damn it. He didn't trust the bastard enough to believe him.

Staring at the ceiling and feeling the tell-tale tingles in his throat, he sighed.

Malcolm Overby knew he'd just made a big mistake.

-o0o-

The strangled cry that escaped her lips was enough to break the silence of the room.

And she closed her eyes only to open them again, unable to banish the images that flashed in her mind. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, feel her chest rise and fall rapidly in an effort to give her body the oxygen it demanded. She could feel slight pangs in her chest as if her own heart would give out at any given moment.

Her trembling hand rose to wipe the sheen of sweat on her brow, deft fingers proceeding from her flushed skin to her hair, tremulous fingers running through her dampened locks. She breathed in, and out, in and out and tried to remind herself she was safe.

But her mind wouldn't believe her.

Warnings were going on all throughout her being, the urge to run as fast and as far as possible almost too overpowering to resist. What was left of her frayed logical mind tried to make her brain control the rest of her body, reminding it that there was no need to run, that it had only been a horrible dream.

Or, maybe a horrible memory, but that didn't matter, not anymore.

And yet her mind screamed for the release she knew would not come tonight or anywhere in the near future. Somehow, she knew, the peace her mind, body and soul were trying desperately to claw for were, for now, unattainable. In her mind, she could admit that bitter truth.

Body humming with a stunning sort of fear that left her teetering between feeling completely paralyzed yet at the same time filling her veins with a rush of adrenaline, she tried to rise from her bed. With one hand, she tried to maneuver her way out of her tangled sheets, grimacing as she peeled it and her gown away from her skin as it stuck to her with her perspiration.

Determined and undeterred, she shakily let her feet drop to the ground below, long shaky legs extending down and feet finally touching the cold floors, for the second time unassisted and alone. But unsure if she could do anything without her falling—seeing as in her last attempt she'd been caught barely holding on as she leaned against the wall for support—she waited, breathing in heavily, in and out, in and out, waiting until she was sure she wasn't about to make more of a mess of herself.

She could be patient, as long as she could stop herself from further unnecessary humiliation.

Welcoming the coldness of the ground on her bare feet, she breathed in again, exhaling slowly and trying not to focus too much on what she'd seen in her mind moments before. She let the strange feeling of the cold help slow her heart rate, not daring to question how she was comforted by it though grateful nonetheless. _Breathe_, she reminded herself, all she had to do was breathe.

A shuddering sigh escaped her lips as she gingerly tried to help herself stand up, pushing her body off the bed with shaking a shaking arm and held on to the railing of her bed. Her fingers curled around the cold metal as tried to support herself as best she could, pushing herself upwards, ignoring the added weight of her cast and the added effort to make sure she didn't jostle her injured arm.

Bare feet and shivering, she made her way towards the door to the bathroom, thankful that while there wasn't sufficient light around her, she could steel feel her way through and get easy access to the destination without bumping into anything. The last thing she needed was someone coming in and getting caught again. She was truly sick of people fussing over her, it was suffocating.

Pushing the door open, she slipped inside, blindly reaching for the switch. But once the lights came on, she realized immediately just how bad an idea that had been.

Staring across from her in the mirror over the sink was a woman she barely recognized.

A large bruise dominated her face, a bandage on her head and a cut on her bottom lip. She almost screamed at the sight of herself and for a moment, she refused to believe that the woman staring back at her was indeed her. That _could not _be her, her mind churned as she felt her gut twist.

The large mirror revealed her neck as well and remembering what Will had said that day, she reached up, pulling down the neckline of her gown and pushed her messy hair back.

She saw the bruises immediately, peppering her skin in what looked like a grotesque imitation of a necklace. From where she stood, even she could see the marks of what had to be fingers, imprinted on her very skin. She felt the blood freeze in her veins and at the same time, her heart began to pound. Everything was already real to her, but to see just how _hideous _she looked, to finally see what they've been seeing all along _and _what had led some of them to flinch at the sight of her, she couldn't bare it.

It wasn't vanity, no, it was being faced with the complete reality of what happened to her, what she refused to face. She felt her body begin to shake again, harder this time and she felt herself leaning against the doorframe, trying to keep herself upright though she knew her chances of falling were increasing.

Breathing heavily and with tears beginning to gather in her eyes, she looked away. She was beginning to feel sick, but burdened with a broken arm and her injured body beginning to show signs of feeling pain yet again, she doubted she could make it to the toilet to throw up. Instead, she closed her eyes, leaning her temple against the cold tiles of the bathroom, refusing to look at her reflection more lest let it lead to a full on collapse. What had she been thinking?

Swallowing the bile that was beginning to rise in her throat, she blinked back the tears, forcing them back to where they should be and tried to take a calming breath. She reminded herself she couldn't afford a setback like this, pushing away her emotions and forcing herself yet again to suck it up and move on.

She was so much better than this, she reminded herself. The bruises would fade, her wounds would heal and her arm, in time, would be mended. She just needed to get over it—_all of it_.

Gathering herself with a sudden new resolve, she pushed her body up from the slumped position it had adapted. With her head leaned back against the cool tiles, she found herself glaring at her own reflection, horror and fear replaced with an altogether different emotion—_anger_.

And it had been the right emotion to reach for.

Shaky, though determined as ever, she walked forward, steeling herself and her knees as she pushed herself to take the few steps towards the mirror. She didn't avoid looking at herself, but instead, she glared at her own reflection continuously, mentally berating herself for the moment of weakness. She wasn't weak and she hadn't been weak in a long, long time. She wasn't about to let herself go back there, not again.

It angered her beyond belief how easily she let herself slip. She knew better.

With one last look at her own reflection, she raised her injured arm, the lifting the cast despite its weight and, with no hesitation nor room for second thoughts, she swung.

The loud crash of the hardened cement meeting the surface of the glass resounded in the empty bathroom, echoing almost hauntingly as the shards flew, raining down on the pearl white sink and bouncing off the hard facade, flying and falling into different directions. Some shards fell on the floor while the others fell to the bottom of the sink but she barely noticed.

She stood there, unaffected and uncaring, breathing heavily as she stared at the last piece of glass hanging at the corner of the frame. The pointed edge seemed to taunt her, but, as she had relieved herself of her sudden bout of rage, she did nothing more and, instead, turned away.

Stepping over the shards of glass on the tiled floor and feeling somewhat satisfied as her mind emerged from the rage she'd felt and the fear she'd banished, she headed back to her room, neglecting to turn off the light though she remembered to shut the door, quietly.

She slid back into bed, staring at the ceiling and feeling strangely calm all of a sudden. Easing back into her pillow, she blinked once, then twice.

In the back of her mind, she ignored the festering hate that was beginning to build insider of her. It wasn't just hate in a sense that would later fade away no, this hate was different. It burned with a fire that did not show any signs of dying easily or any time in the near future. It was the kind of hate that lasted for years, decades and, sometimes, forever. It was hate in its most dangerous form, a type of hate that could not be easily taken away by flowers or stupid little jokes.

It was hate in its most potent form and Diane Lockhart had it festering inside of her. It wasn't just hate for anything either. This one, this extreme and powerful emotion was focused on something solid.

It was hate…for _herself._


	14. Chapter 14: Unraveling

**Blackout  
**by: raileht  
**  
****Summary:** It was over. The fight in her was almost completely out and she was nearing total exhaustion. She was about to die.  
**Disclaimer: **The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.  
**Rating: **T, to be safe

**Spoilers/Timeline:** post-finale but the last scene with McVeigh and Lockhart (when she came to see him in the end) never took place in this story. Also, Eli Gold isn't in the firm and let's pretend Alicia found some other way to stay in L&G. And of course, Peter is still in jail.**  
****Warning: **Bad words and a lot of violence right from the start. Will be a somewhat dark story so people will be in pain—physical and emotional. Maybe not for the faint hearted.

**Chapter Title taken from:**  
Charlotte Church, _Unraveling _

-o0oo0o0o-

**Chapter Fourteen: Unraveling**

Will Gardner strode into his office early the next morning, for the first time in a long time managing to beat his assistant to arriving first. He swiftly closed his office doors behind him, dropping the shades without a second thought and shedding his coat just as he turned to the other occupant in the room. He had managed to beat Kate, but someone was already inside his space.

"What do you have for me?" he said, foregoing morning pleasantries as he approached her, briefcase in hand and his jaw set.

Kalinda stood in front of his desk, dressed in her usual dark colors and black calf-length boots, "I found Jackson's place last night."

"And?" Will asked, placing his briefcase onto his desk but didn't bother to sit.

Somehow, he already knew something else was coming, that Jackson had not been the end of it all and things were only beginning. He just needed to hear Kalinda say the words, if only to make them a reality and _then _begin what would be another battle only this time he knew they would most likely be fighting an invisible enemy, a phantom of some sort.

"I spoke to his landlord," the investigator began, her dark hooded eyes unwavering as she prepared to deliver the facts, "The police hadn't been to the apartment yet, I managed to beat them and from what I gather, Jackson came into some money recently. He'd been behind in paying his rent but somehow found money to pay the two months he owed _and _make an advance for the next three."

Will nodded, "So he got some money. Do we know where from?"

Kalinda nodded and showed him her camera, loading up the screen and continued, "You already know about the pictures I found at Diane's place and last night, in Jackson's bedside table, I found another set of pictures—" a few shots on the screen appeared, "_This _is from Diane's place…"

The black and white photo was an obvious stolen shot of Diane, dressed in one of her suits, her case file in hand and talking on her cell phone. In the photo, it was apparent that she had no inkling that she was being photographed and showed no signs of distress as she went on with her everyday life.

Unconsciously, Will's fist curled into a tight ball as he stared at the photo, "That's outside the firm…just by the entrance?"

"Yes," Kalinda nodded, "And this one," she pressed a button and the same photo appeared, this time, slightly askew on the screen though it was the exact same shot, "Is from Jackson's place, on his bedside table."

Will's jaw clenched tighter, "He…he's the one who's been taking pictures, sending the letters?"

"I didn't see a copy of the letters, but if these photos _and _his sudden urge to be kinder to his landlord are any indication," she paused, "Best guess is that someone paid him to follow Diane and take pictures."

Will nodded, "Someone who wanted to know what she was doing, where she was going."

Kalinda nodded, watching him as she tucked her camera back into her pocket, "I have a few more photos that match, but I think it's evident already that he's the one who's been tailing her."

"And he was the one who attacked her," Will nodded. "What else?"

"I ran a check on him," she continued. "Prior to all this, he had no ties to Diane."

"You checked his background thoroughly?" Will asked, "No prior contact, maybe they met in court or anything…?"

"Nothing," she shook her head. "Direct or indirect, none that I could find."

"This rules out stalker," he mumbled. "Or, at least, not the hands-on type…"

Kalinda nodded, "This guy was hired to tail her."

"The question is why," Will mumbled.

"Maybe it's one of the cases she's working?" Kalinda suggested. "Maybe an errant client from the other side?"

"Nothing that would go as far as this," Will shook his head, "The class action cases she had for the last few months have been closed and from what you've dug up, this has been going on for a while now."

"Maybe someone didn't like losing," she said thoughtfully.

"That's what you need to find out," Will said, looking at her. "This guy was hired to follow her around and take pictures, but was he paid to kill her?" Will asked, thinking back on the photos of Mark Jackson. "I saw a picture of the guy—he was _huge. _He could have easily killed her after she lost consciousness…did he really intend to kill her and just screwed up or was this another visit that she just interrupted by accident?"

"I'll try and find out," Kalinda watched him, "The money came from somewhere. It'll be hard to trace but with guys like Jackson, he's bound to know people. He'd been around the block a few times."

Will nodded, "We need to find out who was the son of a bitch who hired him—the sooner the better." He looked at her, "Whoever is responsible for this, I won't risk Diane on the off chance this was a onetime thing. Whoever this bastard is, if he wants her bad enough, he's bound to try again."

"Are you telling Diane?" Kalinda asked.

"I can't _not _tell her," he said honestly, "But I think…I think I'll talk to Daniel first…Diane won't readily agree to anything, I'm going to need all the help I can get."

Kalinda nodded, "Someone will need to be in charge of keeping an eye on her."

Will nodded, "Do the police know? About the photos?"

"I heard they came to the house, just this morning," she replied. "The photos weren't hidden—they've found them by now for sure."

"What about De Luca?" Will questioned, "You know him…is he good?"

She nodded, "He's good."

"Will he know you were there first?"

A ghost of a smile appeared on her face, "Yes."

"What should I expect from that?" Will asked, wondering if perhaps he was going to have to go deal with territorial issues with the Chicago Police Department. If anything, he'd have to gear up to one of the many possible pissing contests in the very near future. The thought alone was enough to make his head hurt a little and his hackles rise just by a few inches.

"If he's the only one who knows, nothing," she shook her head slightly. "As long as our investigations don't clash _and _we don't do anything stupid, we won't have problems."

"I'm surprised," Will said with a raised eyebrow. "Is this a common goal thing or do you just have a good relationship with the detective?"

She barely batted an eyelash, "A little of both."

"Okay," Will nodded, "That's good. That's one problem taken care of."

"I'm going to head out," she said, as she turned away from him. "I'll keep you in the loop."

"Call me if you find anything else," Will said after her. "I'm on my cell."

She didn't look back as she said, "Will do."

Will sat down, watching the closed doors of his office even when the investigator had long gone. He placed his elbows on his desk and curled his hands together, one on top of the other, under his chin. He was used to having so many things go on at the same time, to having so many balls up in the air while he tried to maintain his footing on barely solid ground, but _this _was starting to get to him. This was a different.

It wasn't law, it wasn't a case and it wasn't even a job. It was personal in so many ways and it was affecting him. He wouldn't outright admit it, but he was beginning to feel a little afraid. He'd taken this on, without even knowing he had, and somehow he hadn't anticipated reacting this way. He was worried and scared and a lot protective. Someone wanted to hurt someone he had learned to care about and the thought alone that they almost succeeded before left him unsettled.

He was used to just having the job, nothing completely personal, nothing involving too many emotions or even people to watch out for. He'd been so used to being alone, he'd forgotten what it was like to actually care about something that wasn't connected to his job or his own wants. This was different, alien to him and somehow, he wasn't sure if he was properly equipped to handle the situation. He couldn't just detach himself.

But that didn't mean he was going to let _that _deter him.

He was the picture of calm, even though there was a storm brewing inside of him, just beneath the surface. What they were dealing with, whatever it was, was just beginning. While he could maintain his façade, he could not help but feel an altogether _different _rumbling happening within. He was starting to feel the stinging pangs of anxiety, something he hadn't felt since his college days, before he'd found his more confident and self-assured self that had slowly built up to who he was now.

After having his thoughts confirmed that they _did _have yet another invisible enemy to fight, Will was now willing to admit that this was complete and utter mind fuck. He was used to stress, used to being the one left in the dark to find the answers, to seek out what was the truth and face all kinds of evil.

All of that, he was used to—it was, after all, a living.

But what bothered Will more was the fact that while he could maintain his exterior and at the same time keep his inner feelings at bay, he still could not deny that he had things to _hold back_. Bitterly, he wondered if perhaps it was better if he stopped caring entirely. Life would be so much easier without _his_ pesky humanity—god knows it should have been dead by now—because lawyers and humanity just didn't mix.

Yes, Will thought as he tilted his head downward and took a deep breath, this was mind fuck.

And the day had barely begun.

-o0o-

The morning found Alicia Florrick waking up in a slightly altered universe.

For the first time, when she walked by her daughter's bedroom, her bed was empty _and _made which was odd because as sweet a girl Grace was, she was a nightmare to wake up in the morning. Not a day went by when she, like most teens and some adults, would beg for _five more minutes _that would most likely turn into thirty and then, of course, that would lead to the morning's more stressful events—beating out her brother in the bath, hurrying through breakfast to catch the bus and other things teens tended to do just because.

Of course, to see the surprising yet pleasant change woke up Alicia a little more, but seeing her son's bed empty as well—though the bed was messy still—was enough to truly wake her up and send her into the typical 'worried mom' mode at the very thought that something was wrong. Stumbling down the hall and into the kitchen, calling for her children, Alicia was astounded to find both of them on the island in the kitchen, talking to each other and looking awake and relatively intact.

Grace dressed in her pink robe, leaning over her bowl while Zach looked a little more ruffled than usual in the mornings. Her daughter looked awake, with her hair pulled into a low ponytail, but her son just looked too miserable for the morning with his mat of curly hair sticking all over the place and cheeks a little pale and appearing hollow. She called to them, softer this time as she willed her own heart to stop beating so hard—now fully awake and wide eyed.

"Good morning," she said pleasantly, masking the momentary panic she'd felt.

The whole mom thing was never going to end, she was sure of it, and though it had its moments, it was the panic that always got to her. There was no worse feeling in the world than thinking something had happened to your children—it was a goddamned horror show that was all too real and she would _never _get used to it.

"Good morning," Grace smiled brightly, too bright for her at seven in the morning while Zach barely moved from his position, head cradled in one hand while the other held on the spoon that was still full of now soggy and limp cereal.

Alicia passed by Grace and placed a kiss on her head then proceeded to Zach, repeating her movements before heading towards the coffee pot and was surprised once again to find it ready and waiting for her. Suspicious, she turned towards her children and said in her lawyer-mom voice, "Okay. Who did what and how big a problem is it going to be?"

Grace turned towards her brother who barely shrugged with his eyes half closed then turned back to her mother, "Nothing, I swear."

She eyed her daughter, raising an eyebrow at her before turning to grab a mug that was already waiting for her, her mind listing the various things that could be wrong. By the time she filled her cup, she couldn't figure out what exactly it would be so she turned to her children again.

"You're both up early," she commented lightly, wrapping both hands around her cup, absorbing the delightful warmth that seeped through the cup's surface, warming her fingers all the way up to her hands.

Grace smiled, "Yeah…we've been up since about six."

Zach made a grunting sound that sounded like a scoff, but his eyes fell close and his head dipped heaver on his hand. Alicia focused on Grace, seeing that for once, her precautious daughter seemed to be the one more inclined to know what exactly was going on.

"Really? Wow," she nodded, "Why?"

"Justice," Zach snorted with derision.

Alicia looked at her son then turned to her daughter, only to be faced with a ball of fur with a cute pair of puppy eyes, "What?"

"He needed to be taken out," Grace said by way of explanation, cuddling the dog close with a smile. "So we took him out…I know you wouldn't like it if he made a mess in here."

Alicia nodded, "So you woke your brother up?"

"Mhm," Grace nodded earnestly. "I didn't want to go out alone—"

"And it was friggin'—"

"Language, Zach," the reprimand came automatically before she could even register what she'd said.

"Well, it _was _cold," he finished with a slight huff. "And Grace almost lost the dog."

Alicia looked at Grace, "What?"

"I _almost_ dropped the leash," she said, shooting daggers at her brother with her eyes. "But he didn't run. He's really a good dog, mom."

"Yes," Alicia nodded, "But I'm inclined to remind you—he isn't ours and we won't be keeping him."

Grace frowned a little, "I know, but I get to take care of him while he's with us, right?"

Alicia nodded, "Yes."

"So, I'm doing that," she said resolutely. "I'm sure Miss Lockhart would love to know Justice is doing okay."

Alicia smiled a little, "Yes, she would."

Grace smiled brightly then pulled the dog into a hug, one in which Justice seemed to welcome as he settled his head onto her arm contentedly, seemingly enjoying the affection being bestowed upon him. Alicia shook her head slightly, hiding her smile by taking a sip of her coffee.

"We're going to get ready now," Grace said breezily, grabbing her empty bowl and depositing it into the sink not too far from where Alicia stood, "Morning, mom!" she said and kissed her cheek before skipping off to her room, Justice still nestled into her arms.

Zach opened his eyes blearily, looking at his mother with misery written all over her face, "She's not letting that dog go home."

Alicia shook her head, smiling as she reached towards her son and ruffled his hair. He grimaced and opened his eyes fully, grabbing the top of his head as soon as she let go, "Wake up, you have a full day ahead!"

He groaned, "How come I get dragged into Grace's obsession?"

"Because you're the big brother and she's not supposed to stay out alone," Alicia said, "Now, finish your breakfast. Maybe for once, you won't have to run after the bus."

Zach shook his head, "She gets a dog, I get no sleep. Nice."

Alicia smiled, "The price you pay."

He looked at her curiously and with a slight hint of annoyance, "For?"

"Being born first, what else?"

Zach groaned and Alicia could only laugh, remembering the days when _she _had been the one in her son's position. Yes, being older had its benefits, but they came with a price, something Alicia had learned as she grew up when she'd been the one to take care of her brother.

"I'm kidding," she said with a laugh as he leaned forward, smiling a little as he continued to finish his breakfast, grimacing slightly at the soggy feel of the flakes that was now soaked in milk.

Alicia hoped she was shielding her son enough from _not _being put in the same position too much too soon. As far as she knew, no child of hers was going to be forced to grow up quickly that way, not if she could help it. She wanted them to have their childhood for as long as they possibly could, not like her and her brother, when mother was too busy making dad pay for leaving and then later, jumping from one marriage to another, leaving her two children to fend for themselves in the midst of it all.

That was _not _how he own family was going to turn into, not if she could help it.

"I'm gonna go get ready. Don't fall asleep into your food, okay?" she smiled, "I hear cornflakes don't make very good facials."

Zach nodded, grinning a little. "Okay."

Alicia hugged her son with one arm and gave him a squeeze and smiled to herself, "Good. And thank you for keeping your sister company."

He nodded and Alicia watched her son for a moment before heading back towards her room, coffee in hand and smiling to herself. So far, it was turning out to be a good morning and even the fact that Grace was getting too attached to her boss' dog wasn't bringing her down at the moment.

Her day was officially beginning.

-o0o-

Detective Tony De Luca was not a stupid man.

And that was why he didn't wonder about who the extremely hungover landlord of Mark Jackson's apartment was talking about when he mentioned a woman coming by the night before, asking about her sister. He'd kept his temper in check, telling himself that he wasn't in a place where he should be blowing up when the one whose neck he wanted to wring wasn't within the vicinity. He knew he was partly to blame—he should have known she was going to beat them there _and _that she would find whatever his team would find ahead.

They'd gathered evidence, mainly photos of Diane Lockhart, but he wouldn't be surprised if the private investigator in question already had copies of the photos _and _her bosses already knew about them. He was teetering between feeling proud and annoyed since, after all, he'd been one of the few to teach her the tricks she knew. He'd never admit it, especially not now, but she'd surpassed every person who'd taught her what she knew.

It was never a question whether the petite Asian woman was good because right from the beginning, there was no questioning her ability or her intelligence—all she'd needed to learn was the other few secret handshakes and methods. They'd taught her a few of them, but even then De Luca knew she didn't even need them because she would have figured them all out eventually. But, of course, they'd been willing to teach and she was willing to take advantage of that so she did.

She was beautiful, mysterious and proved to be trustworthy and worth the risk. Who were they to refuse her when they were only mere men? De Luca and the few veterans in the city were old, but they sure as hell weren't dead, especially back then when she'd rolled into town the first time.

Now, she'd surpassed them all and was summarily kicking their asses at almost every turn. Their saving grace was the one thing she didn't have—official badges, but even that didn't stop her. She had her ways, oh yes, she did and she knew very well how to use them. The lack of an official government issued badge was an easy obstacle for her and everyone knew it.

Standing in front of the dilapidated apartment early that morning, De Luca shook his head at his partner, the much younger Detective Clancy, who was looking a little troubled himself.

"What's in that head of yours, kid?" he asked gruffly, his gloved hands buried in his pocket and cursing the Chicago weather. He'd lived in the same place all his life but every now and then, the cold still managed to get to him.

"We're going to try and track down the woman he was talking about," Clancy began only to stop when his mentor and partner chuckled and shook his head. "What?"

"Don't bother," he said. "There's no sister."

"How do you know?" Clancy asked.

"It was…a friend of ours," he shrugged. "Don't ask."

Clancy stared at his mentor before nodding slowly, a frown gracing his dark features as he concluded with a steel voice, "Sharma."

"Don't let her hear you call her that," De Luca chuckled. "But yeah."

"She's intervening in our investigation," Clancy pointed out, surprised that the older man seemed to find the situation amusing when he was expecting him to blow a gasket over the obvious intrusion. "Are we just going to let her? She works for the victim."

"Yes and we can't stop them from launching their own investigation," De Luca shrugged, "Besides, we have no ties to Kalinda. She's got her own employers and they're paying her to do her job."

"She should have informed us about the location," Clancy pointed out.

"Nah," De Luca shook his head, "She doesn't have official ties with the PD _and _the fact that the government fired her—"

"Florrick?"

De Luca nodded, "Gives her lesser reasons to help us."

"You guys taught her a few things, isn't she at least supposed to be a little, I don't know, _thoughtful_?"

De Luca let out a laugh, shaking his head at his partner, "Ah, kid, ya still have a lot to learn…" He grinned a little, "Don't try taking on Kalinda, Clancy, because I'm tellin' you now…you can't win. She'll run circles around you and kick your ass to the curb and leave you there to figure out how the hell you got there."

"She's not that good," Clancy said with a slight growl and De Luca knew he'd hit a nerve with the young gun.

"I'm not saying you're not as good," De Luca shrugged, "I'm just sayin' she's been in the game longer. You still got things to learn…best thing to do is play nice, kid."

"I can haul her in for obstruction…"

"You can't and you know it," De Luca shrugged. "And it's a waste of time and the paperwork's gonna be a bitch. Just play nice, Clancy, that's my advice. Kalinda's good and she's nice when you're nice to her so don't rattle her cage if you don't want problems."

"But—"

De Luca sighed, "Look, kid, if she wants to share, she will. If she doesn't, then she doesn't. She's _not _obligated, all right? Let it go." He shrugged, "So a girl beat ya—it happens. Move on and get over it. We got a case to close and we better close it before she does or we'll be both out on our asses."

Walking towards their vehicle, the younger detective watched his mentor go, wondering if perhaps he could let it go. He'd met Kalinda barely a handful of times and each time, she was more and more evasive and vague. De Luca seemed to be able to understand her, despite her veiled attitude and language, but Clancy could barely decipher her. She was intriguing and annoying at the same time, challenging Clancy with one glance.

The fact that she beat them there and with barely a trace of her presence left made Clancy feel all the more bothered about the woman. She was weird, plain and simple, but De Luca and various other people in the force—both old and young—seemed to give her some level of respect in a way that even Clancy himself hadn't completely earned yet.

It was as if she was challenging him without meaning to and Clancy, who was your typical competitive male, decided to take her on. He decided he would play nice, as his partner instructed, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to make sure she didn't beat him again.

Watching his partner who was still quite green, De Luca grinned to himself. The kid was obviously taking the bait and he could practically see his mind working as he made his way to the car. He was bothered, clear and simple, and it seemed that Kalinda was the source of that unease.

De Luca smiled to himself, thinking instead of strangling the private investigator, he would thank her instead and buy her a drink.

Since getting Adam Clancy as a partner, he'd been wondering what to do with the kid. He'd been assigned to him with the higher ups hoping De Luca could train him as he had with previous flesh bloods of the past. Almost all of them had gone ahead to become respected and skilled members of the force and people were hoping he would do the same with Clancy.

Adam Clancy was smart, knew the streets and he was a fast learner, but there had always been something missing and a lot of the higher ups could see that. For a while now, he'd been with De Luca, learning from him by being his partner, but still, there was something missing De Luca had been trying to come up with ways to get him to sharpen up more.

And now, after one try and another, with Kalinda, it looked like he'd found a solution.

"Ready?" he asked as the kid got in.

"Yeah," Clancy nodded though it was apparent he was still a little lost in thought.

"So tell me about the guy I sent you to question," he started the car, "Overby."

"Uh, yeah, I talked to Malcolm Overby and…"

De Luca let him talk, hiding the grin that had been there only moments ago.

Something told him his partner was about to learn a lot from this case.

-o0o-

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

Daniel Archer Lockhart III actually had a good morning. The previous night had not ended well for him after being kicked out of his sister's hospital room, but once he'd gotten home and blown off some steam, he managed to let his frustration go.

She'd put up with a lot concerning him and his _troubles _over the years and once he remembered the things she'd done _for him_, he'd let his anger go and realized that this time, the tables had been turned and it was time for him to be the understanding and supportive one.

Especially, the voice in his head told him, since what happened to her was not of her own doing while _his _past adventures were ninety-nine point nine percent his entire fault. In all the world, only the two of them were _completely _aware of his full history since every time he got in trouble, his first call had always been his more responsible and tamed sister. Even when that one time when he virtually only had the proverbial _one phone call_, he had called Diane and they were both barely sixteen at the time.

So, he ate dinner, amused himself and listened to one lecture after another from a certain errant nanny-turned-housekeeper-slash-steward of their family home, mostly nodding his head and saying the most insincere apology he could muster, if only to annoy her more. Of course, each insincere apology was met by one smack of the evening paper and another set of lectures.

One smack, a ton of verbal smack downs and an exquisite dinner—Daniel really did miss his home.

Not to mention the fact that he was able to return to his old bedroom, the one where he'd spent his early years of being the black sheep of the family, misbehaving at every turn and basically being the nuisance he was born to be and he had loved every minute of it.

That morning, he'd woken up to a hearty breakfast and a lecture on _why_ it was a bad idea not to let her go with him to the hospital to visit his twin. Of course, he had issued the insincere and distracted apologies again and received a smack or two, only this time it was from the morning paper.

He told her why he needed her to stay away _for now_ and, to his surprise, she had reluctantly calmed down and agreed to stay home. She understood once she saw his logic, but she huffed around him, promising that he wouldn't be getting his favorite dessert that she'd already had at the ready. He gave her a kiss and a sincere thank you—he really meant it that time—and slipped out, bringing with him a basket full of breakfast that was sure to annoy their patient but would also secretly enjoy.

Daniel had _hummed_, actually _hummed_, some old Beatles song on his way to the hospital that morning, sitting back against the soft cushions of the town car and chatting with his usual driver whenever he came to visit. Nothing new was to be said, but Daniel went on chatting with the man anyway, having known him for quite some time now as his own father had driven Daniel's father in his time.

But, of course, the humming and good mood had to end when Daniel glimpsed an all too familiar shade of short wavy dark-blonde hair, heading towards the hospital's entrance. Forgetting the breakfast he'd brought with him, Daniel jumped out of the car and raced towards the entrance just as the tall figure dressed in a dark sport jacket and jeans stepped through the threshold.

He made a grab for an arm, pulling him back and turning him without hesitation, hoping to god he'd made a mistake. Daniel decided he'd rather take a punch in the face from a complete stranger than be right at that very moment.

"What the hell!" the other man said in that dreaded familiar voice as he whipped around, facing Daniel with an angry look on his face, "Dad!"

The frown disappeared only to be replaced by a look of surprise and a touch of confusion as father and son stood facing each other for the first time in months.

Nicholas looked a lot like the Lockharts—dark-blonde and tall with the seemingly inherent carriage to go with their slim build. He had gotten his temperament from his father, but it was heavily influenced by his aunt as well, balancing his boyish playful qualities with just the right amount of seriousness and sincerity when the situation called for it. He was intelligent and logical, witty and articulate—a perfect blend of his parents and the people who'd made a great influence in his life as he grew up, one of them being his aunt with whom he'd formed an unbreakable bond with.

The only thing that was visibly different with Nicholas were his eyes which were an arresting shade of green that reminded one of emeralds, one of the few physical attributes he'd gotten from his mother. Standing in front of his father, he stood easily as tall as him now, looking indeed more like a man instead of the boy he once was and looked like a much younger version of his father.

"Yeah, that's my name," Daniel said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see—"

"No," Daniel raised a halting hand, "No, I know _why_ you're here, I'm asking what were you thinking coming _here_ now, of all times?"

"I'm not allowed to visit?" the man that used to be that adorably troublesome little boy with the toy airplane said with such incredulity.

"Yes, you are, but do you want me dead _that much_ that you'd come here _now_?" Daniel retorted, "You want me dead by sun down?"

"No, what are you talking about?"

"You know as well as I do once _your _beloved _Aunt Danni_ finds out you are _here_ instead of back in New Haven, studying your ass off, she will literally hang me by my toes and beat me with a stick!"

"I think you're confusing Aunt Danni with mom," the younger man said wryly.

"Nicholas," Daniel gritted out and in the back of his mind, he was getting one of those fatherly epiphanies where a flashback would come to his mind when _he _had been the one in his son's position. Oh, he'd loved to wind people up back then too. Why did he have to pass on that particular gene to his only son?

"Yes, dad?" Nicholas said, mimicking his tone easily.

Then again, that gene could just as easily have been from his mother as well.

"What are you doing here?"

"Visiting my aunt," Nicholas said seriously, "I…I wanted to make sure she was okay."

"You spoke with her several times yesterday," Daniel pointed out, "She was fine then, she's much, much more okay now, I'm sure. You didn't have to—"

"Yes, I did," Nicholas said, cutting him off smoothly. "She was hurt. I want to see for myself she's okay—I-I saw the news….and I just…I just…you know."

Daniel stopped, staring at his son for a moment. Nicholas was quite adept when it came to concealing his true emotions, but at that moment, even Daniel—who barely knew his own son at this point—could see how distraught the whole thing had left him. He couldn't blame his son for wanting to make sure Diane was all right, to want to see for himself that she was, indeed, alive.

It had been years since they—Diane, Daniel and Gwen—collectively decided to send Nicholas to boarding school in Europe, but prior to that, Nicholas had been living with his aunt at the time in Chicago. He'd grown close with Diane and had been distraught and angry that he'd been sent away so suddenly, Daniel was sure he had never quite forgiven _him _for that knowing he'd been the one Nicholas had been most angry with.

Nicholas had asked why, but they decided that had no choice but to deny him answers so they packed him off, full of anger and questions and kissed him goodbye. He had left literally kicking and screaming, demanding for answers that never came. By the time Nicholas came back to the States, he was a young man already, aged eighteen and threatening them all with emancipation if they dared make him go away again.

Daniel had never been more infuriated and grudgingly proud at the same time.

"Fine," he said after a moment, shaking his head as his mind worked on overdrive, wondering how he was going to get out of this one alive. He was in big trouble because one way or another, his sister was going to blame him for this. "You can visit, but I swear, Nick, if she tells you to go back, you go back, understand?"

Nicholas nodded, "Of course."

Daniel sighed, "And you tell her I had _nothing _to do with this _and _I did _nothing _to prompt this stupid decision."

The young man smiled a little, "Sure."

"Now," Daniel motioned for him to come closer, "Come on, we need to…talk before heading up."

"But—"

"It's still early," Daniel said simply, "I need to get the breakfast Gloria sent and I need to…explain a few things before we head up, all right?"

Nicholas paused before nodding reluctantly, "Fine…but just for a moment. I want to see Aunt Danni."

His father rolled his eyes, "Yes, yes, yes, I _know_. Just come on, okay?"

The son nodded, coming towards him and they both headed out to the parked town car not too far away. Father and son walked together, but left a considerably sizable gap between the two of them, walking first in silence before Daniel found himself breaking it.

"So…when did you come in?"

"I took the last flight in," Nicholas said, shrugging slightly. "I got in late so I crashed at the nearest hotel…woke up early then dropped my things off at the house—"

"House?" Daniel looked up, surprised. "At _the house_?"

"Yeah," Nicholas shrugged. "I-I used the back entrance…I think Gloria was yelling at you and Anita saw me, but I told her not to tell anyone. I went up to my room, dropped of my things and changed my clothes…then came here."

"We must have left around the same time," Daniel grumbled. "You could have went with me."

Nicholas shrugged, "I wanted to get here as soon as possible…Gloria was going to give me a lecture, for sure, so I decided to put off seeing her until I saw Aunt Danni."

Daniel sighed, "Right. Understandable."

"Thanks for not getting pissed," Nicholas mumbled.

"Of course not," Daniel said easily. "Gloria'll be pissed enough for the two of us."

The younger man winced slightly, "Right."

"She's going to kill you, bring you back then kill you again," Daniel teased.

Nicholas smiled a little, "Wouldn't be the first time." Then he looked up, "Oh and speaking about getting your ass kicked…"

"What?" Daniel looked sideways at him just as they reached the car.

"Uh, well," Nicholas shrugged again, looking at him with, hesitating.

"Well?"

"Just letting you know," Nicholas began nonchalantly, "Mom called…she said you have to pick up your phone or else…"

Daniel's eyes widened, "Or else _what_?"

"She'll come to Chicago."

"_What?_" Daniel froze.

"Yeah," Nicholas wiggled his eyebrows.

Daniel looked up to the heavens and moaned, "Oh, hell."

Nicholas laughed, more than used to his parents' most unique relationship. He'd always known his parents were, for the lack of a better word, _weird_, but he hadn't been aware of just how weird they were until they deemed him old enough to witness just how volatile they could be when it came to each other. His mother sure never hid her enthusiasm when it came to tormenting his father and his father had made no secret of his jumping from one corner of the world to the other, if only to get away from her and her playful claws.

To others, they might see how his childhood may have been scarring, to Nicholas, it was _normal_. So, his parents were weird and a little too violent when it came to each other? As long as there was no bloodshed, no murder trial or anything of the sort, he was fine.

"Right," his father nodded, "Right…I'll take care of that."

"She sounded serious."

"Of course, she did," Daniel nodded miserably.

"You should pick up," Nicholas advised, "You know she doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"Yes, I know…"

They stood next to the car, looking at this and that, but never at each other. The awkwardness was beginning to settle, the stunted conversation having lost its ability to keep the unease at bay until then. It was almost ridiculous how two men who have so much in common, including reasons why they'd come back to Chicago so suddenly, could find so little to talk about.

It had been years since they'd been in a room alone together for a lengthy period of time, both having so been used to being apart they'd forgotten how to be a family on their own. Usually there was someone else, someone to play buffer while they skirt around each other—that had been Diane's role, but now that they were alone, for once, they could barely look at each other in the silence.

Avoidance had been so much easier than talking things out and just being together, they learned to live with the distance and the absence. For his part, Daniel could not figure out how to reach his son, after spending so many years being away, he'd lost the chance to get to know him and felt a little unworthy of his attention after basically abandoning him to pursue his own selfish goals. Daniel felt the guilt, felt it greatly, but stuck with it in the unfortunate belief that he no longer deserved to be given attention by his own son when he'd deprived him of so much fatherly love.

With Nicholas, however, lay an altogether different story though it was similar in some ways. For the most part, while he knew the man across from him was his father, the time apart had long ceased to make them feel like a real father and son and had turned them both into mere badly made copies of what they should be. Nicholas knew he loved his father and would do anything for him, but still, much like when he'd been a young boy, he'd assumed that somehow, there was always something better and more interesting in the world for his father than his own son. Nicholas had been hurt at first, but learned to live with it eventually. His aunt had made up for the void, had helped him feel loved and wanted when he'd been with her.

And that was why he'd come running when he'd found out what had happened.

Yet here he was, with his father and wondering what the hell were they supposed to say next.

They shared a nod, their eyes meeting briefly before looking away altogether again. As far back as the two Lockhart men could remember, this was the longest and most civil conversation they'd had in quite some time. It was an impressive accomplishment, especially since they didn't have a buffer or a mediator with them. By all accounts, one of them should have walked out about by now, but it seemed things had changed between them.

Nicholas actually spoke to his father, using complete sentences and without being surly or sarcastic _and _even managed to smile and joke with him.

Daniel actually had a conversation with his son without yelling or thinking it was a mistake for even trying.

They actually spoke, without snarling or arguing too much.

"Uh," the older Lockhart began then paused to clear his throat before continuing, "I…you look good."

Nicholas nodded, "You too."

It was barely anything but it _was _a start.

-o0o-

"Good—"

Walking in, Annie Clawson was surprised to find the curtains pulled back, letting the sun stream into the room and lighting up everything brightly. She'd expected everything to be dark, hence the cause for her walking in with a perky morning greeting at the ready.

"Good morning, Annie."

She looked up, surprised still and stared at her boss who was sitting up in bed already, reading the paper with her glasses perched on her nose. "Hi. I mean, good morning, Miss Lockhart."

Annie mentally slapped herself for stammering. It had been a long time since her employer had made her stammer and she hated that she'd done it again when she'd really already gotten over her initial fears when it came to working for the formidable woman.

Diane smiled, "You're here."

"Yes, I am," she nodded, immediately getting back to herself and she breezed into the room, bag hanging on one arm and a bouquet of fresh gardenias in one arm. "And you have a delivery."

"Oh?" her boss said, mildly curious as she folded up the paper. How she managed to get one, Annie wasn't about to ask. "I've been getting those by the bulk since the news of my…survival spread." She smiled lazily, "My room was beginning to look like a funeral home so I had the nurses give them away to other patients."

"That's nice," Annie remarked, eyeing a pile of neatly stacked cards on her bedside, "And you kept the cards?"

Diane glanced at them, "For thank you notes later."

The younger woman nodded, "Of course."

"You're here," Diane said again, this time, tilting her head to the side curiously.

"Yes," Annie smiled. "Kevin and I spoke just this morning. If you don't mind him staying in at the office to man the phones, I'll be staying here with you and you can kick me out later, if you'd like."

Diane shook her head, "I haven't even called you…"

"Yes, but I wanted to come," Annie responded, "And I know Kevin won't last coming back and forth between here and at the office so we'll be doing work together instead. Anything you need from the office you let me know and _then _Kevin and I will figure it out."

Diane stared at her for a moment with an unreadable expression on her face, "You _do_ know I hired you to be my office assistant, right? _Not _as my personal one?"

Annie nodded, unfazed by the seriousness in her boss' voice. She knew she wasn't doing anything wrong so she knew she had nothing to fear. "Yes, _but _I'm here so…what can we do, right?"

The two women stared at each other, both of them not saying a word though it was clear who was waiting for whom to say something. Diane was busy processing the situation in her head, weighing the pros and cons while Annie waited for the decision whether she was going to be kicked out or not—either way, it didn't matter because _if _Diane did kick her out, she would head to the office anyway and get some work done alongside Kevin who was managing quite well on his own between taking care of rescheduling and delegating cases with the other lawyers in the firm.

After a moment, Diane began to nod slowly, "Fine…but when I tell you to leave and go home you will, do you understand?"

Annie nodded, "Yes."

"This is beyond your job description," Diane mumbled as she put her paper aside. "Why you're doing this is beyond me but…" she smiled a little, "Remind me to give you a raise."

Annie smiled triumphantly, "Definitely."

"So, who are the flowers from this time?" Diane asked, smiling a little as Annie handed them to her. "They're beautiful."

"Aren't they?" Annie smiled, putting her bag aside and grabbed the card attached to the beautiful arrangement. "They're from…oh."

"Oh?" Diane echoed, inhaling a bloom.

"They're from Mr. Overby."

Diane's eyes flew open, "Malcolm?"

"Malcolm Overby," Annie nodded, hesitating a little. "I think he sent a bouquet yesterday too but it was before everyone knew about what happened and it was sent to the firm. Kate placed them in your office."

"Did it come with a card?" Diane asked.

"Yes, but that's why Kate wasn't too sure who it was from," Annie shrugged, "It only had the initials M and O on it…and I thought, you know, that it might be from him too."

"They are," Diane nodded, looking away from the woman and at the flowers again. "I'd forgotten he knew I liked gardenias." She stared at the white petals for a moment before shaking her head, "Please add him to the list of people to thank."

"Oh, okay," Annie nodded, knowing it wasn't her place to ask questions, "Of course. I can take care of those."

Diane smiled, "Thank you…and could you put these somewhere?"

Annie smiled, "No problem."

She went to work, watching her boss from the corner of her eye while she unwrapped the flowers. Diane was staring at an empty space on the wall, obviously lost in her thoughts. Annie wasn't sure exactly how her boss felt about Malcolm Overby, but she'd initially expected she would get rid of the flowers.

It left her wondering—did she like gardenias that much or was there another reason?

Walking into the bathroom, Annie was surprised to find that the mirror over the sink was gone. She was tempted to ask why at first but thought twice about it. Instead, she plugged the drain then laid the flowers in the sink, letting the water flow over the stems before laying them there to wait, soaking up the much needed water they might be needed now despite their healthy appearance.

"I'm going to see if they have a vase or something," Annie said, as she wiped her hands. "The flowers are beautiful, it'd be a shame if we just let them die."

Diane nodded, "Of course."

If the woman was expecting her assistant to comment on the absence of the mirror, it didn't show, nor did the question appear on the younger woman's face. They were too good to let anything show at this point and Annie had her share of suspicions, she knew her place enough to know not to question Diane's behavior. In fact, she'd noticed the rings that had appeared under Diane's eyes and chose not to comment.

It was quite apparent that while Diane was trying to seem relax and rested, to someone who knew her well and dealt with her almost every day of the week, they would see the subtle signs of what had to be a less than restful night. There were shadows under her eyes, a sure sign she hadn't slept enough or if she did at all and Annie had indeed noticed but chose not to comment. She would be there if her boss and friend needed anything so for now, she would take care of her flowers.

Smiling at the guards that were still at the door—the same ones from yesterday but not the ones from when she came in, Annie headed towards the nurses' station, tapping it lightly to catch a petite blonde's attention. The nurse smiled, "Yes, Miss Clawson?"

"Hi," Annie smiled politely, "I was wondering if you have a vase? My boss' pseudo flower shop happened to get a lovely arrangement of—"

"Gardenias," the girl smiled brighter. "Oh, I saw them. Yes, they arrived shortly before you did. They were breathtaking, weren't they?"

"Yes, they were," Annie smiled, "I wanted to check if I could maybe keep them alive longer? If I could just borrow a vase or something?"

"Oh, yeah," the nurse smiled, "We've got one here…" she went through a door not too far away and came back a few moments later, a plain glass vase held in hand. "This came with one of the arrangements that were sent to Miss Lockhart's room yesterday."

"That's great," Annie replied, taking the vase gratefully. "This will be perfect for those."

The nurse smiled, "Your boss was really nice to have those flowers distributed today. It made a lot of patients happy around the hospital."

Annie smiled, "Yeah, uhm, I'm sorry. I didn't catch your name…"

"Oh, I'm Jackie," the girl smiled. "Anyway, I'm glad she's okay, your boss. She seems like a good person…"

"Yeah," Annie smiled. "She is."

Jackie smiled, "For a high profile patient, she sure is one of the most well behaved we've had here and, trust me, we've had a few…_interesting_ ones."

Annie grinned, "Really?"

"Mhm," Jackie nodded, "But we shouldn't talk about that. Like Miss Lockhart, those patients had lawyers who made us sign a bunch of stuff too. Anyway, we hope your boss' stay will be short. She seems fine, apart from the accident from this morning and Dr. Nol—"

"Accident?" Annie cut her off, "Wh-what accident?"

"Oh, the mirror," Jackie said nonchalantly, "Something must've happened this morning when Miss Lockhart tried to get out of bed unassisted. Anyway, she accidentally broke the mirror with her cast."

"Ah," Annie said slowly, "So that's where the mirror went? I was curious about that."

Jackie shrugged, "It's normal with patients who aren't used to having casts to feel a little awkward with it at the beginning. She'll be fine though. Dr. Nolan came to check her out as soon as we found out this morning. He's gone home, but he'll be back for lunch to check on in again and he'll be sure to come to her room again. For rounds."

"Well, that's good to know," Annie nodded then raised the vase, "So, thanks again, Jackie. I'm sure this will look great with the flowers."

"You're welcome, Miss Clawson," the nurse smiled.

"Oh, it's Annie," she waved a dismissive hand, "Miss Clawson makes me sound like a kindergarten teacher."

The nurse chuckled and Annie waved a small goodbye, heading back to the room. At least she had one question answered. This time, she was glad she didn't have to poke around to get it.

Hearing a slight buzz just as she got into the room, she found a text from her partner in crime and immediately, Annie shook the thoughts about the mirror and the nurse away as she typed a quick reply back to confirm that their agreement had been approved by their boss. She was sure Kevin had been waiting for word about their proposition and she could understand part of the reason why. Kevin was basically one of the very few floaters of the firm, which meant that he pretty much worked for everyone and everywhere. He was, for lack of a better word, the 'in house' temp.

She was glad she was able to help him out, even just for a little bit. Being idle was not a happy feeling, especially when working in a law firm as big and active as theirs, considering everything that's been happening with the economy. How Kevin didn't get cut during the lay-offs was a mystery still, but Annie was pretty sure it had something to do with her and Diane wanting to keep him on hand, _just in case_.

With everything in place and herself assured that she was _not _to be thrown out of her boss's hospital room that day, Annie and Kevin knew all they had to do was sit back and wait. Soon before long, Diane was sure to start feeling more up to working, if they knew her well enough, which they did. It was their boss' nature to work and they were ready for pretty much anything, having planned out their strategies together that morning. Kevin was always accommodating, for a temp, and Annie was glad for that.

Annie knew they were incredibly lucky to have someone like Kevin to count on.

-o0o-

"You know I can't talk about the case with you."

Kurt looked up, nodding slightly as he eyed the passing group of people underneath them. They'd agreed to meet on the roof of the hospital before he decided to go in for his visit. De Luca stood a few feet away, watching the parking lot below. The sun was shining but the cold persisted anyway.

"I'm not asking you to talk about the case."

"You are," De Luca nodded, "And as much as I wanna tell you, you know I can't. You're emotionally involved and from what I hear, you've managed to fix things with Lockhart."

The ballistics expert nodded, "Just…I just need to know. Do we have something to worry about?"

"Something," the detective echoed, glancing at his friend before shaking his head, "We're on thin ice. I shouldn't even be here. Clancy's doing field right now and I'm supposed to be talking to your girlfriend's employee about the case."

"Kalinda."

"That one," De Luca shook his head, "She's too good. Beat us to a location."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Kurt shrugged. "If you can't tell me about the case, why'd you agree to come?"

"Just lettin' you know this is dangerous," De Luca shrugged. "You're involved with the victim and that means not only are you emotionally involved, you can hurt the case too _if _you manage to get out of hand."

"In all the years we worked together, since when have I ever gotten out of hand?"

De Luca turned to him, "Never, but that's because we've never handled a personal case before. _This _is personal, McVeigh. She's _something_ to you."

"I just want to know if there's something to worry about," Kurt said simply.

"There's _always _something to worry about."

"Don't be so goddamned cryptic," Kurt said darkly.

De Luca glared at him, "I can't tell you shit, Kurt. You know this."

"I'm just asking, point blank," Kurt turned to him fully, looking him in the eye. "_Is there anything I need to be ready for?_"

"Ongoing investigation," De Luca said gruffly, looking away with a huff. "And it's goddamned cold out here."

"It's goddamned cold anywhere," Kurt growled, "Answer me."

"And then what? Get this thrown?" De Luca snarled back, "Look, McVeigh, I _can't _tell you _anything_. What part of butt the hell out do you _not _understand?"

The two men stared at each other, their temperatures raised a little as the usually playful conversation had now turned decidedly serious. The detective could understand why his friend was acting this way, why he was ignoring the rules for once because _this _was indeed personal, but the problem was, he also knew what ramifications of jeopardizing the case could bring. He cared about his friend, cared deeply about what happens to him and he didn't want what was happening to drive him into doing something stupid.

And in the back of his mind, Kurt also could understand how he had put his friend in a precarious and difficult situation, but he needed answers he knew he wouldn't get anywhere else. He'd spent the night barely sleeping, wondering if perhaps there was something to worry about and wondering if there were still people waiting to hurt Diane.

It left him angry and more than curious, wondering if perhaps he needed to do something to make sure she was okay. It had taken everything to leave her the night before, but he'd made himself do so, but as soon as he'd gotten in his car, he almost couldn't ignore the protests and berating he was getting from his own mind and instincts, telling him to stay and never leave. He left anyway though and even though he knew she was fine, he was still angry for doing so.

And standing in front of him was his friend who had more of an idea what exactly was going on and he hated himself that he was pressuring himself like this, but he was getting a little desperate and disturbed.

Shaking his head slightly, Kurt waved a dismissive hand, "Forget it. I'm sorry…that was stupid."

"You bet your ass it was," De Luca said though he made sure his voice was neutral and he sighed, "I understand what you're goin' through, okay? I do, Kurt, but this isn't the way to go. I can't tell you nada. I'm sorry, but the law's a bitch like that."

Kurt nodded, "I know, I just…you _saw _her."

"Yeah," De Luca nodded, "But she's alive and she's fine…be glad about that and just make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Then tell me if there's a chance it will."

"There's always a chance," De Luca said, "Anyone in this town can get mugged, hit by car, get shot or stabbed."

"That's not making me feel better," Kurt mumbled.

"It wasn't meant to anyway," De Luca shrugged, "But it's something you need you face 'cause it's damned true. It's Chicago, after all…I'm telling you this because whether something's going on or not, reality is, there's always a chance of something happening. It's a stupid fact."

"Yeah," Kurt shook his head. "But it doesn't hurt to have some sort of confirmation."

"Well, you won't get it from me," De Luca said, shaking his head slightly. "But just…you wanna keep your woman safe, McVeigh? Do something about it. This is the first time anything like this happened to her and we're not saying it will _again_, but it's a jungle out there…won't hurt to be sure."

Kurt turned to his friend, narrowing his eyes slightly as he observed him, "…Yeah, I guess you're right."

"'Course I am," De Luca nodded, grinning a little then glanced at his watch, "Look, I gotta go. Kid's probably wondering where I am…can't have him thinking I'm feeding you information now, right?"

Kurt nodded, "See ya."

De Luca nodded, "See you 'round, but Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"She's trouble," De Luca said with a slight wave of his hand as he began to walk away, headed towards the door of the roof. "Your girl's got a talent for trouble."

"Yeah," Kurt smirked, "I know."

"Watch your back," De Luca said over his shoulder. "And…you might wanna talk to Kalinda. That kid's got a lot in that head of hers. Real steel trap mind, might wanna try and pick it."

Kurt glanced back behind him, but all he saw was the back of the old detective's head just as the heavy door's closed. He stared at the closed door for a moment before nodding slowly. De Luca was trying to tell him something without breaking the law, something that Kurt knew would answer his question.

Turning to the horizon again and slipping his hands in his pocket, Kurt nodded and breathed in deeply. He was still bothered, but not like before. De Luca had more than given him an answer and he was grateful, but as he let out a breath, he knew something he'd known would happen if he didn't get the answer he'd vainly hoped for.

Kurt still needed answers, but this time, he had more of an idea where to get them without putting the case or Diane's welfare in danger. He almost smacked himself for not thinking of it sooner. Still, one thought lingered in his mind, now that his answer had been laid out before him, however vague it was.

He was going to have more trouble sleeping in the future.

Shaking his head, Kurt nodded again, this time more accepting of what he was facing. It looked like there were more things to consider, more things to think about. He didn't mind, in fact, he welcomed it, as long as he didn't fail again. Diane was going to need someone, stubborn as she was and he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon because De Luca had been right when he'd said it.

This was personal.

-o0o0o0o0o0o-

_**To annaflower:**  
So glad you liked the ending of the last chapter! That was a last minute addition so I wasn't too sure about that. I'm sorry the update took a while…the holidays kept me busier than I imagined it would! Happy New Year, by the way…late, I know, but better late than never, right?_

_**To MarySunshine:  
THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME KNOW ABOUT THAT BIG, BIG MISS! I owe you!**_

_**To Ellie:  
**__I owe you a reply. So sorry!_


	15. Chapter 15: Long Live

**Blackout  
**by: raileht  
**  
****Summary:** It was over. The fight in her was almost completely out and she was nearing total exhaustion. She was about to die.  
**Disclaimer: **The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.  
**Rating: **T, to be safe

**Spoilers/Timeline:** post-finale but the last scene with McVeigh and Lockhart (when she came to see him in the end) never took place in this story. Also, Eli Gold isn't in the firm and let's pretend Alicia found some other way to stay in L&G. And of course, Peter is still in jail.**  
****Warning: **Bad words and a lot of violence right from the start. Will be a somewhat dark story so people will be in pain—physical and emotional. Maybe not for the faint hearted.

**Chapter Title taken from:  
**Taylor Swift, _Long Live  
_

-o0oo0oo0o-

**Chapter Fifteen: Long Live  
**

There was something to be said about the foolish bravery of youth.

At least, that's what Daniel Lockhart thought as he watched his son exit the elevator determinedly. Standing tall and in obvious need to get there while at the same time trying to appear calm and collected, he silently commended Nicholas' restraint. If anything, the boy had no future in acting so thankfully, he wasn't the type to think of going in that route, but Daniel knew if he was going to be a lawyer like the aunt he adored so much, he would need to brush up on his emotional responses.

It wasn't that Nicholas couldn't control his emotions because he _really _could and he could definitely lie with the best of them, but throw him his aunt then all bets were off. The two were ridiculously protective of each other and given the right instance, Daniel knew full well Nicholas would, admittedly, as soon as forget about his mother if he had to choose between her and his aunt. Not that he could blame his son or anything. Gwen, for all that she was, had never quite aspired to be the perfect mother.

Not that Daniel would blame _her_ either, not even when he truly wanted to, but that was history really. They were all where they were now for all their equal faults. They were a quirky little broken family, but one that still oddly managed to work. He would never question or wonder why and how, but they managed to work _most of the time_ because quite frankly Daniel had long ago decided that was better than nothing.

So, watching his son hurry to his sister's side wasn't altogether as irritating or heartbreaking as one would think, considering their past. If anything, it was a comfort to Daniel that Nicholas had a constant in his life that had come in the form of his sister. Again, it was better than nothing.

"Nick," he called, just as Nicholas came head to head with the guards by the doors. "Remember what we talked about, yeah?"

"Yes, _dad_," Nicholas said. He was a man now and looked the part, but he could still very well act like a petulant teen if he wanted to, something that reminded Daniel yet again that this was indeed his son.

"Let him in, sirs," Daniel said with a slight wave of his hand, "My son, Nicholas…think of him as what morphine would look like if shaped like a human. At least, for my sister."

The two guards nodded, stepping aside with a nod and Nicholas thanked them, knocking softly twice before coming in and Daniel had to roll his eyes, but that was mostly for show. He was actually quite glad he didn't end up having a spoiled brat for a son, although he also knew _that _certainly did not come from him _or _his mother.

Without another glance at his father, Nicholas went in, slipping through the door as soon as he could without further hesitation. Daniel waited a moment, closing the door in front of him before walking away, deciding that the best thing to do at the moment was to give them a proper reunion. He knew Diane missed Nicholas immensely whenever he was away, he wouldn't get in the way of her welcoming him back.

Plus, Daniel thought as he went back towards the elevators, there was no way he was going to be there for when questions arise, including _why _the young Yalie was in Chicago in the middle of the semester. Diane was a stickler for school, especially when it concerned her darling _Nicky_ and this time, Daniel was _not _about to take a bullet for something he had_ nothing _to do with. Yes, for once, his claim of innocence was a hundred percent true with no further room for false accusations and this time, he would make sure further by _not _being there for the first blow.

Daniel smiled to himself, glad that this time, he was to escape a beating that was surely undeserved. Somehow, the women in his life always had a way of turning things around and making everything _his _fault. Oh, yes, they all seemed to share that talent, the lot of them and his sister was the mastermind. Of course, he'd wondered a time or two if maybe Diane was even _teaching _them that, but no, his second wife had met _him _prior to meeting Diane and she'd known that trick beforehand.

Shaking his head, Daniel lamented his sad fate with women again. Somehow, even when a tree falls in the forest, they could pin that on him as well, as if his very existence was reason alone for things going wrong were responsible for it. He really led quite a charmed life with women.

And so, Daniel decided that once again, it was a good decision to let Nicholas make his first visit alone. He was brave, that one, because even though everyone knew Diane adored him to pieces, even _he _wasn't immune to a scolding or two and Daniel was pretty sure skipping school warranted at least one. Daniel just hoped Nicholas was brave and clever enough to make his case valid, considering that despite everything that happened, it seemed it wasn't enough to dull the force that was Diane Lockhart.

Daniel shook his head and thought again, _brave boy_.

Hearing the elevator's ding, Daniel looked up and his thoughts were quickly forgotten when he saw the new arrival of the morning. He gave a genuine smile that startled the other man who'd also noticed his presence just then.

"Mr. McVeigh!"

-o0o-

"I think I'm in love."

Kalinda frowned, checking the screen of her phone again just to make sure then placed it back against her ear. She waited for the other person on the line to go on, knowing there was more because she was pretty sure even if there were chemicals in his, he wouldn't ever be stupid enough to call her about something so insipid and completely _not _related to her or their business.

"I am telling you, I am in _love_," the voice carried that distinct sound of glee that made her wonder if perhaps this call was going to be bad _for her_. "Your boss—I am in love."

An eyebrow raised without in need of a command and this time, her annoyance was replaced by interest, "Would you mind repeating that?"

"Your boss is amazing and I am in love with her," was the swift reply. "Sorry, K, but she's turning out to be _way _cooler than you—cooler than _anyone _could even imagine."

"Are you drunk dialing again?"

"No, no," he replied. "I wouldn't, especially not after your friendly reminder last time…" he trailed off. "I still have scars from the last time."

"So you called me for a reason."

"Yes."

"And is it something _other _than you sharing your delusions?"

"Hey! Words _hurt_," he declared. "But no, it isn't a delusion. She kicks ass and you know how I love women who—"

"I'm busy," she said shortly. "What are you calling me for?"

"You know your boss Will?"

"You're in love with him?"

"Jesus Christ," he groaned. "Okay _that _hurts and pisses me off a little."

"Why? He _is _an attractive man," she said simply, her own little way of screwing with his mind emerging without even her thinking of it for it just came so naturally when it came to dealing with this particular fellow. He was useful, but sometimes, he could be so annoying, she wondered why she even bothered.

"Drop that," he said, this time sounding a lot more sober. "Anyway, you wanna find out why I'm the gift that keeps on giving, beautiful?"

"Give it your best shot."

"Great," he said. "I got on a caffeine high and couldn't sleep so I thought I'd check a few things out so…well, I've been looking into your boss lady. Quite an interesting history on that one…first off, she's loaded."

"She's a lawyer, what do you expect?"

"No, I mean, she's _loaded_ like her dad was this big money politician…"

"Yes, common knowledge. Is this going somewhere?"

"Okay, okay," he said hurriedly, sensing her steadily climbing ire. "Anyway, forget the money, I'm really calling about something that might come in useful for you."

She didn't say a word and instead, maintained an uncomfortable silence, knowing that was just the tool she needed to make him talk. Brilliant as this contact was, he was also an awkward man child with insanely clichéd mommy issues, it made it so easy to manipulate him. She would feel bad, but why should she? She tolerated him enough and she _always _made sure to repay him whenever he was in a jam. God knew she'd gotten him out of a few situations in the past.

"O-kay," he said, the mirth disappearing from his voice a little and she began to hear the distinct sounds of clicking in the background. She didn't need three guesses to figure out he was on his computer again, the damned thing in itself a product of his brilliance and would be illegal _if _his bosses knew it existed. "You already know your boss is one of the best in the business, of course, and we all know she kicks asses, right? I mean, come on, this is the woman who—"

He stopped, as if catching himself and remembering her silence then continued, "This is all a bunch of stuff I got from people, all right? Rumors and nothing official, _but _scuttlebutt is that she's had a few interesting clients in the past, like scary people you wouldn't want to mess with, you know? Anyway, early in her career as a fledgling little defense attorney, trying to get out of her do-gooder daddy's shadow, her clients ranged from the good, the bad and the downright lock-em-up-throw-the-key-away-to-oblivion type—"

"Is this going somewhere?"

"Yes! It is. If you'd just let me finish."

"I don't have all day. Are you telling me that you have suspects?"

"Actually, no," she could imagine a smile spreading on his face at the sound of her voice. "I wouldn't call them suspects, K. Not really."

"What are you saying?"

"Your boss Will has contacts of his own, scary dudes and all," he went on as if she hadn't said anything, "_But _your other boss, jesus—turns out, she has her own arsenal of clients from the past, almost _all _of them still alive. Now, yes, you might think they're a bunch of criminals just waiting to kill her, but hell no, Kalinda. This woman has freed men who are actually _on _government payroll _right now_."

"Politicians with records?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Are you kidding? No, more like…I think they call them contractors. Yeah, that's the _politically correct term _for these guys," he babbled. "I mean, she's freed these guys and built a reputation on and you know what? They actually _like _her."

"So?"

"So? She's got a favor bank she's not touching," he concluded. "I'm saying she's got an insane line up of people who could quite literally have anyone killed _without _anyone knowing."

"What's the point of this call?"

"The point is, Ka-lin-da," he said, sounding a little exasperated that she wasn't as excited as he was at the moment. "She's on a _rare_ list _very few people _know about and from what I've been hearing, my contacts are saying that there _quite _a few people out there who aren't happy with what happened."

Kalinda leaned forward on her seat, "What exactly are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about your dead guy," he said simply. "Did you see the body? I looked at pictures too and I don't have to be a cop or some smarty pants CSI to conclude that _that _looked like an execution."

"You're saying one of her old friends had him killed."

"It's a distinct possibility," he answered. "But of course, the rub would be _how _someone managed to find out about what he did _before _this hit the news because this guy was killed almost right after the attack…either the dudes of the underworld knew what he was about to do and told on him _or _someone hired the guy, someone else found out a little too late and decided to make him pay…or, you know."

"You found out all this from your little computer?"

"She is _not _little," he said adamantly, "But yes and no…I told you, I managed to talk to a few people. Most of these aren't even on record, considering these _government contractors _have either changed their names _and _lives completely or are serving as a silent-something for companies, you know, hiding behind CEOs and stuff like that…it's like some stupid conspiracy movie, yeah, but it's true. I can prove it, if I have to."

"You got this from your contacts?"

"Yeah."

"Who?"

"The usual suspects," he said then paused, "No pun intended."

She smirked, "Of course not."

Kalinda could feel the gleeful smile that was beginning to appear on his face, "You owe me again."

"Yeah," she nodded. "But can you tell me something?"

"More? I don't have anymore, K, but if you give me more time I—"

"No, something else," she said then took a breath, "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"You paid your debt, why bother for more?"

"It's an open case, K," he answered. "And it's looking a lot like something is really happening here…and you know me, I like helping. Plus, I might get to help _you _put the bad guys away this time. You're always kicking my boss' asses but it's not like I care, because hey, it isn't my ego being crushed as long as someone gets the guy."

She shook her head, with this man child, a somewhat child_like _innocence came with it and this time, Kalinda remembered why she put up with him. He wasn't _just _useful, really. He _had _his moments, rare as they were.

"K? You there?"

"Yeah," she said, nodding a little. "And hey, you know what?"

"What?"

"If you _do _get fired over this," the ghostlike smile appeared on her serene features again, "You've got my number."

He laughed a little and she heard a happy sound escaped from his mouth, "You're welcome."

"Yeah."

"Oh, hey, one more thing?"

"What?"

"Speaking about numbers, any chance I can get your boss—"

Kalinda hung up with a customary rolling of her eyes and once again, she wondered if perhaps he _really _was worth putting up with.

-o0o-

The silence in the air was tense as the tension hung between the two people in the room.

Usually, he wouldn't mind being in this atmosphere, especially since this seemed quite typical when it came to his family, but at the moment, he was _bothered_. He'd expected a few things, maybe a yell or two, but nothing really quite like this and inwardly, he cringed—_bothered _was an understatement. A _gross _understatement.

And it wasn't because it was early in the morning and he was feeling incredibly tense, not at all.

It was because of the person that was currently sharing this tense environment with him. This would be the norm with his parents, but _not _with his aunt. They could always talk, always share a laugh and share ideas and views. Awkwardness was rarely something that came between them and the same went with tension and anger. Sure, he's gotten in trouble before, but never enough to warrant a situation like the one he was currently in at that very moment.

He'd expected to visit her, be there for her, but apparently, he'd made some miscalculations in this one.

"Aunt Danni…" he tried again, but to his dismay, she merely shook her head at him. She'd been staring at him for the past five minutes since he'd arrived. He guessed she was in some sort of shock.

Nicholas stood at least a foot away from the bed, shifting from one foot to another as if he was back in grade school, wondering if it was okay to ask his first grade substitute teacher Miss Harriet to go potty. She'd been quite scary and he'd heard stories in the playground where other kids said she had bugs in her hair.

Of course he had expected disapproval from Diane regarding his coming considering he was in his last year in the university and the beginning of the end of his life was set to begin, but he hadn't expected this silent stunned reaction. Somehow, he preferred if she'd just outright decided to just shout at him—that would have been so much better and easier to deal with because he hated the uncharacteristic silence he was getting from _her_.

Silence didn't become her and, in truth, it was scaring him a little.

The silence between him and his father and the insane conversations with his mother were things he was used to, but this silence between him and the woman who was responsible for the more _normal_ parts of his growing up was something Nicholas Lockhart wasn't willing to turn into a norm. He loved her and she knew it, surely she would have known he wouldn't be able to stay away? He almost felt hurt that she'd expected less from him.

"Are you mad?" Nicholas asked and he was almost ashamed at how pathetically childish it was but he couldn't help himself. The silence was getting just a little too much and he was getting tired of standing motionlessly. It was hard enough going through what he did the day before, to add something like this to the least just made passing out seem like a welcome choice.

When he got no answer and the blank stare continued, he shook his head and went towards the bed.

With all the courage he could muster, he bent low and didn't hesitate to let his arms fall around her in a hug and laid his head on her shoulder. He remembered to be careful, not wanting to inflict further pain on her knowing that if he hurt her, while she would make sure not to show it, she would still _feel_ it. He didn't want her in pain, not anymore and he could not help but let the feeling of complete relief come over him now that he had proof positive that she was, _indeed_, alive.

The horror and immediate rage that came the first moment he'd laid eyes on her, not missing the bruises, the cast and the other obvious signs of what came of the attack had been replaced when he'd realized she hadn't said anything in welcome to him. He'd been caught up in his emotions all too suddenly and for a moment, he hadn't been able to figure out which emotion to focus on first when the anger, sadness and_ relief_, among other things, were swirling in his mind and the mix of _too many _feelings left him a little lost and disoriented.

At first, anger seemed to be winning, if only because of the garish bruise that did not belong anywhere on her skin and the mere thought of _anyone _hurting her made him just a little braver and, admittedly, a little stupid as the male machismo threatened to come out, but it was _really _seeing her that changed the focus and he went to anger to relief to sadness then _back _to relief.

Alive. Okay. _Living_—those words had been spoken to him, not just by her through the phone, but by the people around him as well as his father and mother. It was fine hearing those, but to actually have _proof_ was something else entirely. She was still here, _alive_.

Nicholas held on just a fraction tighter, remembering the words of assurance he'd gotten, that she was okay and he hadn't believed them, not at all. She was there and she was warm—alive, alive, _alive_.

Seeing wasn't enough, but to finally _feel _that she was indeed there was enough to make his heart start beating fast again and it helped silence his fears greatly. The last several hours had been utter hell and he wondered if all this really just happened yesterday when he really felt years old at the moment. The day before surely could not have been the day before because to him, it felt like _months_ ago,

And one thing he knew for sure—he could not think he'd gotten home soon enough.

"I'm sorry…if you're mad," he said, hugging her still. "But you can't blame me…I _thought_…"

He couldn't finish the sentence because even in thinking them, the moment he'd heard the news, he had felt like an orphan already, immediately drowning in that devastating sadness at the mere thought of going back home to Chicago to find one of the most important constants of his life was simply _gone_ just like _that_ with no warning or anything. The shock had almost killed him right then and it was _hell_.

It took a few moments, but he was barely paying attention—it could have been seconds, minutes, days—when he felt her good arm slip around him, it was exactly what he needed to finally breathe out and he could not help the shiver that escaped with the breath he hadn't even noticed he'd been holding. He could have cried at that moment, but he made sure not to as he felt her head move a little, leaning against his and he let himself enjoy the warmth he could always remember from his childhood.

"I thought you were gone," he muttered and he felt her nod. "I was scared."

She began to pull back, but he held on a little longer and only granted her silent request by planting himself on the seat next to the bed, holding on to her hand the way he had as a child.

"I'm sorry," he heard her say quietly and he looked at her and felt _another _wave of relief when he saw her eyes were no longer vacant with shock, but was rather full of the warmth that had always been there as far as he could remember. This was _home_.

If he wasn't a _guy _and feeling the normal reaction similar to a kid trying to be brave and wanting to appear strong and composed in the effort to seem _grown up_, he would have begun to weep already, if only for all the things that he was feeling inside. It was such a reaction that he, on a different day where none of this was happening, would have been ashamed to call a 'girly reaction'.

"Not your fault," he muttered and, suddenly feeling exhausted, he laid his head down on the bed, pressing his cheek against the white sheets with another exhale, this one heavier. He'd been running on pure adrenaline since yesterday and he'd been wound up so tightly, the release he was feeling now was a welcomed one.

"You shouldn't have come, Nicky," she said quietly. "You don't—"

"Please, don't," he said. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay…don't worry about school—I talked to my professors and sent out a letter to explain my absence…they're willing to give me the time."

"And I'm glad, but honestly," he heard her sigh. "I really am okay, darling."

"Had to see for myself," he mumbled. "The things that were getting reported…shit."

"Language," she admonished, though there was no hint of anger in her voice.

"Sorry," he shrugged and scratched his left eye tiredly. "You're okay?"

"I am," Diane nodded. "Did you sleep? You look tired."

He shrugged again, "I'm fine."

"Nicky," she said and he almost had to laugh. She was worrying about _him_ and as ridiculous as it was, he realized he should have expected this because, really, some things just never change.

"I'm fine," he said. "Have you eaten?"

He didn't have to look at her to see the small smile that appeared on her face, "Have _you_?"

"That's a no then," Nicholas sat up this time, wondering now where he'd put that basket down. He couldn't recall putting it anywhere, but his father had made sure he came in with it so he looked around and found it on the table not too far away. He had no recollection of doing anything with it.

"Gloria sent a few things," he said, motioning for the basket, "She sent it with dad."

"Ah," she nodded, "I should have known…you've seen your father?"

He nodded, "We talked for a bit…we arrived at the same time."

"You didn't'…"

"We didn't," Nicholas said. "We behaved—promise."

"Good to know," she raised an eyebrow at him even though he couldn't see her, "What else are you not telling me?"

He ducked his head a little, "I arrived late last night…checked in a hotel and left early to get here, but I stopped at the house to drop my things off."

"A hotel," she shook her head. "So…how did you not end up arriving _with _your father?"

"I went through the back," he said, avoiding her look as he stood up and headed towards the basket. "They didn't see me."

"Nicholas," she said and he was almost worried, but he heard her chuckle lightly. "Gloria will not be happy."

"No, she won't," he shrugged.

"Well," she smiled a little. "At least that should take the heat off me a little. Thank you, dear."

He grinned, "Anytime."

Nicholas smiled a little as he explored the basket, his back towards her as he rummaged through the container full of food that could most likely feed a passel of hungry kids. As far as he could remember, Gloria's life plan consisted mostly of feeding all the Lockharts, his aunt especially, which of course always led to interesting conversations at the dinner table.

Finding a container with fresh fruits, Nicholas didn't hesitate to pull it out and pop the lid off, finding a fork for it immediately and turned towards the bed. He was sure this was for his aunt, knowing his father rarely ever let _healthy crap_ near him, something he liked to flaunt at Gloria as well, just for fun.

"If things haven't changed around here," he said in a more conversational tone as he smiled at his aunt, "Then I'm sure the food still sucks."

Diane smiled a little, "Your father's been kind enough to bring me some choice contraband from the outside."

"Then I'm sure you'll enjoy this," he handed her the meal and she smiled gratefully. "It's the _fun _kind of healthy."

"Aren't you going to eat?" she asked, all too aware of his eating habits—he was never one for breakfast, much like his mother who lived more during the afternoons and night and preferred to sleep in the mornings.

"I'll grab something in a bit," he shrugged then waited a few moments. "Are we talking about it?"

"No," she said simply. "Have you spoken to your mother?"

"You get one veto, then so do I," he said. "So I'll say yes and we'll leave it at that."

"Bargaining, brave boy," she smirked.

"I get braver each day."

"Cute," she shook her head, "So, let's get on to a more…neutral ground then. Tell me about school."

Nicholas nodded. He didn't like the idea of not knowing what happened, of being censored as if he was a child, but he could understand her wanting to protect him. She'd always been like that—protective so he knew if he wanted to find out more, he would have to remind her once again that he was no longer at child. They might argue about it, he might let it go because she'd been the one who was hurt and step back and pretend he wasn't going to interfere anymore, but that should come later.

If she was determined to keep him in the dark, Nicholas knew he would always have the option of talking to his father about what was happening. If anything, he wasn't too ashamed of taking advantage his father's obvious concerns about being unable to talk to him that tended to be leave him more vulnerable to prodding. Nicholas knew it wasn't such a nice thing to do, but he would do it anyway because this time, he had a _good _reason to.

Knowing about what exactly was going on with his aunt _was _important and Nicholas more than thought it was _reasonable_. He would get in trouble for it, but it was with good intentions—there were no boundaries he wasn't willing to cross right now because _she _was about one of the most important people in his life.

Nicholas leaned forward in his seat and said, "I'm still not sure."

"About?" she drawled out as she began to eat, which made him glad to see. If she was doing it just for show, he didn't care as long as she was eating.

"What to do…after I graduate."

"You haven't confirmed any of your offers yet?" she asked, stabbing a grape with her fork.

"I've been getting inquiries, people checking in," he shrugged. "I turned down Pershings & Schulz from San Francisco."

"Really?" she raised an eyebrow. "Anyone else?"

"Holt, Hartman & Dunn," he said, "I'm not sure about them…Washington's good, but it's not like I've plans to get into politics."

"Never say never."

"_You_ did," he pointed out.

"Well, I had a clearer map in my head about what to do with my life," she shrugged. "Politics was just something I was sure I wasn't going to do…you on the other hand…it's still a possibility."

"I'm not interested," Nicholas said. "I'm not the Beltway kind of guy. You know that."

"Okay," she said with a playful tone in her voice. "What else?"

"Stern & Associates called me again a few days ago," he smirked. "Said Mr. Stern was very much interested in having me under his wing."

Diane shook her head, "Oh?"

"Yeah, said he was really impressed with my records," he went on, grinning wider with each word. "Offered me a pretty penny too…highest offer I've gotten so far."

"Well, I wouldn't blame you for considering the offer then," she said neutrally. "You know Jonas and who he is…can't go wrong, right?"

Nicholas nodded in mock solemnity, "Right."

"When did you tell them you'd call back?"

He shrugged, "I said I'd think about it."

Diane smiled, "Good boy."

Nicholas shook his head, "I really don't know what's going on in that man's head…he was pretty funny, from what I remember, but this one was just…"

"He's trying to get under my skin, but that doesn't mean you're not full of potential because you _are_," she said then frowned a little. "Jonas and I...well, you know what happened but regardless, I respect the man. I just don't think reconciliation is possibility right now."

"Understandable," he nodded. "And add calling me to the list? He's really asking for it…does he want you back?"

She shook her head, "No."

"His loss."

"Smooth talker," she smirked. "Now, enough chit-chat, give me more. I've been so busy these days, I've fallen behind on what's happening with you."

"Not like I have much of a life these days so you really didn't miss much," Nicholas smiled then turned serious, "I'm serious about pursuing public interest law for a few years," he began, "I think the experience would be good for me. I mean, it's basically trench work, but I want to learn and yes, I can do that in a big law firm, but…well, I wanna do something good before I sell my soul, that's all."

"You are most definitely a _Yalie_," Diane chuckled, "What's stopping you?"

"_The _offer," he said with a slight shrug. "It's…a _great _opportunity."

She nodded, "It certainly is. Everyone knows the numbers when it comes to offers for clerking in the federal courts…especially in the court of appeals." She ate a piece of pear, "It'll give you bigger chances of clerking for the Supreme Court someday after, if you're interested."

He nodded, "I know."

"Plus, with a track record like that," she looked at him pointedly, "The offers you're getting can only get better. I should know."

The corners of his lips curled up, "You should."

"Any law student would kill for the options you have."

"I'm just learning how true that is, with the way Alex has been acting lately," he muttered, grimacing a little.

"Hasn't he been getting offers as well?" Diane frowned.

She'd met Alexander Donovan a few times in the last few years, being Nicholas' roommate and both of them sharing an apartment just outside of campus. She knew he spent a couple of summers in known law firms in big cities and even managed to get a feel of him so she _knew _he was a good student with a lot of potential. He wasn't as good as Nicholas—and yes, she's aware she's biased—but she knew he was nearly there as well.

"A ton," Nicholas nodded.

"But nothing on clerkships?"

"District," he shrugged. "He was aiming for court of appeals."

"Ah," Diane nodded, understanding the sudden shift in the friendship. "It's beginning then."

"Yeah," he nodded. "It sucks."

"I know," she nodded. "But you're about to enter the real world. It's supposed to."

Nicholas frowned, "I should be glad. It's a great opportunity."

Diane smiled a little, "You still have time, Nicky. Don't pressure yourself too much."

"I'm about to become a lawyer," he said, shaking his head a little. "Isn't pressure part of the deal?"

She smirked, "It's a living."

-o0o-

"Hey."

Alicia looked up, smiling a little when she saw Will standing at the threshold of her office, "Hey."

"Is it safe to come in?"

She smiled wider, "Yes, it's safe."

A look of relief passed through his otherwise calm features and he stepped into the room further, hands shoved into his pockets. "So…how was Justice?"

"I wouldn't really know," she shrugged, tapping her pen lightly on her notebook.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, slowly. "Tell me you did not lose him."

"I should be offended by that," she frowned slightly. "No, I did _not _lose him. Grace has him and he's been…very good, I suppose since he hasn't done anything much."

Will smiled, "That's good news."

"Not according to my son," she smirked. "Grace is a little smitten with Justice."

"Well, he's a cute dog," Will shrugged, "A pain at times, but cute."

"For a dog," she nodded.

He chuckled, "Wow. You're really not a dog person, are you?"

She shrugged, "It comes and goes."

Will smiled a little before switching to work mode though his demeanor stayed casual, "So how's the Howard case going?"

"My client is still proving to be elusive, but with everything," she motioned to the papers in front of her, "I think we can get this kicked in pre-trial motions."

"Great," Will replied. "This might just put us in the Howard's radar."

She tilted her head sideways, "We have his daughter as a client…doesn't that put us there already?"

Will shrugged, "I'm not sure about that…from what I can tell, this is a personal matter with Diane. I don't know how she knows the family, but we don't have any record of doing business with them. I'd talk to her about it, but we haven't really had the time…but we'll see."

"If she can sign them as a client…" Alicia let the thought linger.

"It's gonna be big," he nodded. "But we're going to have to talk about that…especially since we still have that matter with Wentworth & Lennox. If we get this kicked in pre-trial then the possible conflicts end there and who knows then, right?"

Alicia nodded, "This could be good."

"No," he grinned. "This could be _great_. They have at least three law firms in this city alone working for them and while that may divide the work, it'll still be big since they're just beginning to really expand and go public…this could be a game changer for us, for the firm. I just need to talk to Diane about this. She's never mentioned ever knowing _anyone _from Howard before, let alone Howard himself and his family."

"Maybe they met before," Alicia suggested, "I mean, they both come from old families in Chicago, right?"

Will nodded, "That's entirely possible…the upper echelons and their secret handshakes—that's Diane's world as well as the Howards."

"How is Diane doing?" Alicia asked with genuine concern.

"She's doing well, actually," Will said. "She's already turned her hospital room into her mini-war room, but she's having a little trouble with her brother. Apparently, he's kind of brave enough to tell her no."

"Tell Diane _no_?" she grinned, amused by the thought of _anyone _trying to tell the woman what she could and could not do. She imagined not even her brother could manage such a thing.

"Well, tried to, at least," Will shrugged. "They've got a serious power dynamic going on."

"Are they…_alike_?" Alicia asked, remembering her own brother at the moment and mentally counting the way they were different—_too many_.

Will grinned wider and this time, pulled his hands out of his pockets and sat down on the chair beside her desk. He still had a bit of time enough for him to lounge about and relax into some friendly conversation. A good laugh with Alicia was something worth indulging in at the moment, "Oh, far from it."

"Really?" Alicia asked, smiling. "How far?"

"He's…interesting," Will said, "Wait—that's an understatement…but what's really more interesting is how Diane is when he's around. You wouldn't really recognize her."

"_Really_?"

"Yeah," Will nodded, "She threatens bodily harm, she scowls like a kid, she even growls…nothing at all like courtroom Diane Lockhart…this was more _playful_ and yes, that's another word I would _never _have thought I'd link with her."

Alicia chuckled, "_That _different."

"Yeah, it was interesting to watch," he grinned. "But now that I think about it…she has a nephew. He's a law student at Yale right now."

"Wow," Alicia raised her eyebrows, "Diane's from Yale, right?"

"Yes," Will replied. "Apparently, she adores him and you know. I saw her talk to him on the phone and I just…I swear, she was _different_."

"You already said different," Alicia echoed, growing even more curious.

"No, it's another kind of different."

"Good or bad?"

"Better, actually."

"So, then different like how…?"

"I don't know," Will admitted, frowning a little as he thought about what exactly he was trying to convey. "She just was…it was kind of nice, actually. She seemed _softer_."

"Soft? Softer? Words _I _wouldn't think to describe her with," Alicia smiled a little, "She must really love him then, her nephew."

Will nodded, "Yeah…it's obvious she does." He stopped when his phone began to beep, "Ah, damn it…its Penn again. Great."

Alicia raised an eyebrow, "Tyler Penn?"

He groaned, "Yes."

She smirked, "What's he done this time?" She stopped, "Or rather, who's he suing now?"

"Who knows? God maybe?" Will said with a hint of bitterness in his tone to match the scowl on his face. "It's moments when I really see how unfair it is that just about anyone can get rich these days."

She chuckled, "It's almost criminal."

He rolled his eyes, "Yeah, god, he's a whiner."

"I thought he brings in money."

He scowled, "Sure he does, but that doesn't mean I have to like him."

"Do you even have a client that you like?"

He thought for a moment, "A few."

She smirked, "Then do what everyone else in our profession does."

"And what would that be?" he asked, "Aside from grinning and bearing it?"

"Bill each whine."

He laughed, "That's a given." He headed out, "See you."

Alicia smiled, "See you."

She watched him go, her thoughts leaning toward the more cynical side, if only involving this particular client of Will's. It was no secret in the firm what a big pain Tyler Penn was, considering his biggest hobby seem to be suing everyone from his first grade teacher to his endless list of nannies from birth to his teen years and, just recently, old girlfriends. Yes, Tyler Penn was one incredibly _bored _rich man with questionable sanity.

Alicia shook her head—with all Penn was paying the firm, she was pretty sure it wasn't enough.

-o0o-

"Going down?"

Daniel stepped into the car, blocking the other man's way and effectively drove him deeper into the small box. They were fairly the same height though he was pretty sure he weighed less than the other man. Not that it mattered, he thought. Women cared more about weight than men but he wasn't about to go all sexist in his head by even _thinking _about _that_. He'd been in enough trouble in the past whenever the words _weight _and _women _were put in the same sentence anyway.

"Actually, I was—"

"I know," he nodded, then gave him an apologetic smile. "But I'm sorry, my sister is a little preoccupied at the moment and as...delightful as she finds you, believe me, this is one thing even _you_, sir, are most definitely not allowed to interrupt."

"May I ask why?" Kurt asked, leaning against the wall behind him, watching the numbers as they descended to the ground floor of the hospital.

Daniel nodded, "My son decided this would be the perfect time to screw his old man over, you know? For shits and giggles."

Kurt raised an eyebrow, "You have a son."

"Ah," the other man smiled, "She hasn't told you then. Yes, my son. Brilliant boy he is—first wife, but she's…well, insane and I'm a little off myself so Nicholas, that's his name, spent some time growing up under his aunt's care. That's the most normal upbringing he's gotten, but since you've been _with _my sister," he gave Kurt a look that said he knew exactly _how _he'd been with his sister, "The normal part is questionable in that area as well."

Kurt stared at him for a moment, wondering if perhaps he needed to say anything when in Daniel had pretty much explained the basic parts of the story he wasn't even aware existed. He leaned back against the walls of the elevator, checking the numbers just in time to see they'd landed.

"Come," Daniel said, stepping out at the first possible moment he could. "Have coffee with me. Danni can't have any yet so its best we get this out of the way…lest be killed with a glare for reminding her of the fact."

Watching the other man saunter off, Kurt hesitated a moment before deciding to follow. If Daniel wasn't lying—he didn't see a reason why he should unless he wanted to keep him away from Diane, which he was sure wasn't the case in this matter—and her nephew was indeed visiting, Kurt thought the best he could do at the moment was let her spend time with him. He didn't mind, especially if the back story between them was how Daniel had told him because he took that to mean she must have a close relationship with him.

As long as she wasn't alone or with someone she didn't want to be with, Kurt would give her the space. They weren't sure what they were or where they were headed, but he knew enough that _he _was sure about his desire to make sure he was there for her and look after her. If that meant staying away when he needed to, then that was okay too.

Stepping out of the car, he followed the other man, a small grin forming in one corner of his mouth as he watched Daniel walk ahead of him. If he'd been aware Diane had a sibling—a twin at that—Daniel would have been the _last _thing on his mind because as far as he was concerned, Diane and her brother were _miles _apart different from each other.

"So, what's your deal?" Daniel asked as he ordered coffee for the two of them, his with cream and sugar while Kurt took his black—something that didn't stop the other man from commenting about that being the same as his sister's taste for coffee as well.

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked, pulling out his money and handing it to the woman at the register, waving off Daniel's beginning attempt to stop him.

"I mean," Daniel shrugged, "You're a Republican, you're around guns _all the time_, you play consultant to pretty much everywhere and anywhere and you, from what I've managed to find out so far, have never been married, lives alone out in the country and shares an unfortunate last name with a son of a bitch and yet, you appear to not be one."

"That sounds pretty much right," Kurt muttered as he retrieved his own cup and Daniel did the same.

The both headed towards a couple of seats near the back of the cafeteria, taking seats from across each other. Daniel went to work pouring sugar and cream into his drink while Kurt kept one hand on his cup, absorbing the warmth with his hand and watching Diane's brother closely.

"What do you want to know?" Kurt asked, preferring to drop the small talk and get to the point. He didn't mind waiting outside Diane's room until she was ready for more visitors.

Daniel shrugged, "Anything. Maybe everything…I honestly didn't even know you existed so, you're a complete stranger to me." He watched the other man closely, "You _were _with my sister, weren't you?"

"Yes," Kurt nodded.

"But you…" he paused, "You broke it off, sometime before _this_…and then you heard what happened, so you came right over, to see if she was okay. Please, keep in mind she hasn't told me a stitch about you, this is all just guesswork on my part."

"I thought she was dead," Kurt said honestly. "I was going to see a friend of mine…to find out what really happened, see if I could lend a hand in the investigation."

"See if you can catch the bastard yourself?" Daniel raised an eyebrow, watching him closely. "Kill him yourself?"

Kurt watched him for a moment before nodding, "The thought crossed my mind."

Daniel stared at him, "It's amazing, isn't it?"

"What?"

"The things we're willing to do," he began, "Forthe ones we love."

Kurt didn't answer and instead, picked up his cup and drank.

-o0o-

"What the hell do you think you're doing here?"

He wanted to slam the door and was truly tempted to, but his secretary was at her desk. He didn't want to raise suspicion especially not now. He was furious and tempted to start strangling someone, but it was early in the morning and as far as his secretary new, his morning visitor was just another potential client. If he appeared agitated and angry before even beginning a conversation with the stranger then it would only catch unwanted attention and that was the very _last _thing he needed at the moment.

"Looking for representation," the man said simply then proceeded to laugh. "Just coming in for a report."

"We do _not _meet, that was the agreement," Malcolm Overby hissed as he slammed his things down on his desk. "I call you, you listen and you do now what the _hell _are you doing here?"

"As far as anyone knows, I'm just a Joe looking for a lawyer—nasty divorce and all that," he motioned to his suit, "I clean up nice to, see? You're fine. Just get that stick out of your ass."

"What do you want?"

"Just coming by to let you know you were right," he shrugged. "That bitch investigator from your lady's firm is sniffing around. Looks like they're sending the dogs out to catch whoever tried to kill the woman."

"Is that why you're here? Hiding?"

The other man smirked, "Nice try, but I already told you…it wasn't me."

"How can I be sure?"

He stared at Malcolm for a moment before a slow sinister began to spread on his face, "Because if it _was _me…she'd be dead."

Malcolm stared at the man for a moment before nodding, "Fine. Now, aside from the investigator, what do you have for me?"

"She's back together with that guy," he said simply, "That gun guy."

He gritted his teeth, "McVeigh."

"That one," he nodded. "He camped in her room last night, left late and he's back there now…looks like they're making a go of this one…near death experiences can do that to you. Fucks you up good."

"They won't last," he scoffed, taking his seat behind his massive desk and leaning back. "Are you getting anything? Clues on who did this?"

"Not yet," he replied. "The police thought it was random, but with those photos and the dead guy's record? Too much of a coincidence…they're looking at hired gun now."

"And you're not the one who hired that gun?"

"How many times do I have to say no, Overby?"

"Just checking."

He shook his head, "I'm looking in on some friends right now. Jackson… I know someone who knew him. Maybe I can get something off that one."

"The moment you find out…"

"I'll tell you."

"You'll get the money at the end of the day."

A happy smile, "Same time?"

Malcolm nodded, "Same place."

-o0o-

The first thing she heard was laughter.

And that was enough to put a smile on Annie's face as she entered her boss' hospital room. She didn't need three guesses to figure out just _who _was with her boss. As far as Annie knew, there was only ever one person she'd ever seen snap Diane Lockhart out of a bad mood that had been unfortunately paired with her need to have a tirade and that had been her nephew, Nicholas, who'd thankfully phoned in the middle of it all.

She'd never seen such transformation in her life, but Diane had gone from looking ready to kill with her bare hands—eyes blazing, hands curled into lethal looking claws and completed with a scary halo around her blonde head—when Annie bravely entered the office, knees shaking and all, with the phone, declaring in a small voice that a Nicholas Lockhart was calling all the way from New Haven, Connecticut.

As if a chord had been pulled, Diane stopped mid-rant, freezing one moment before heading towards her desk and grabbing the phone. Annie had stood motionless, watching the woman and wondering if perhaps she should go and, to her utter surprise, Diane looked up just as she was about to turn away and flashed her a smile, making a gentle motion that told her she was excused.

Now, there she stood on the threshold, watching the two Lockharts laugh together as if it was just any other visit. Annie had seen Nicholas about a handful of times, mostly during the holidays when he could get away from his mounting school work to visit.

He was still as handsome as ever, possessing the same Lockhart features, save for the eyes. His mop of dark blonde looked a little longer than his last visit and he was dressed down to a light cashmere sweater and jeans. Hanging on the back of his seat was a dark sport jacket and Annie suspected he'd donned that one on just to make sure he seemed presentable enough if ever the sweater wasn't enough.

"…and then he has this look on his face that he gets whenever mom's name appears on his phone," Nicholas continued as Diane laughed. "It never gets old!"

Annie smiled, guessing immediately just _who _they were talking about. She wasn't well acquainted with Daniel Lockhart, but his fear of his first ex-wife was something Diane often loved to laugh about, if only because of his comical reactions to the strange woman. It was moments like this when Annie wished she could meet the elusive woman herself. She knew Diane kept in contact with her former sister-in-law.

She must have been too caught up imagining the woman because before she knew it, she was being jarred from her thoughts by Nicholas saying, "Oh, hey you!"

"You remember Annie," Diane said graciously, smiling at the younger woman as Nicholas stood up, ever the gentleman and extended his hand for her to shake.

"Of course," Nicholas smiled, almost shyly, though in the most charming way. "Hi—sorry about the phone calls, I know—"

"No, it's okay," Annie said as they let go, waving a hand dismissively. "It wasn't a problem at all."

"Oh, well, thanks," he smiled. "Is my aunt working you to the bone? She likes doing that you know, thinks it builds character though, personally, I think she just likes doing it for fun."

Annie giggled, "She's the perfect boss."

Nicholas grinned wider then turned to his aunt, "She's trying to earn brownie points."

"I'll give her an A for effort," Diane said with a chuckle. "Everything okay, Annie?"

The younger woman smiled, "Yes, everything's fine. I just got off the phone with Kate and she told me Mr. Tyler Penn just stepped into Mr. Gardner's office."

Diane's eyes widened with glee, "Tyler Penn?"

"The one and only," she nodded.

"Anyone I know?" Nicholas queried, eyebrows raised.

"Not really," she smiled. "Just someone I am most definitely sure will make Will's day interesting."

"Kate said she saw Townsend walk by the office then _run_ when he saw Mr. Penn," Annie said, unable to stop the smile that appeared on her face. "She offered to trade places with me today."

Diane laughed, "I bet she did."

"This client sounds interesting," Nicholas said, "What, drug dealer?"

"Hardly," his aunt scoffed. "Just…trigger happy when it comes to suing people."

"Ah," Nicholas nodded. "A pain then."

Diane chuckled, "Oh, yes." She smirked, "But he definitely gives good billable hours…he'd be a first year associate's dream, actually."

"Don't you have any there?"

"Yes," she nodded, "But Penn likes playing with the partners and, most importantly, he likes playing with Will because he thought _I _was—to quote Mr. Penn—_too mean_."

"Mean?"

"Yes, his words, not mine," she nodded.

"Were you?"

"Mean?" Diane said, feigning surprise. "Me? I would never, not to a client."

Nicholas grinned, "Liar."

"Let's just say he likes Will better," Diane smiled in the most telling way. "And leave it at that."

"I think I saw Mr. Lockhart get on the elevator…"

"Oh, yeah," Nicholas said, taking his seat again. "Dad's giving us some time to catch up, but he'll be back."

"They brought food from home," Diane nodded towards the basket, "Our old housekeeper, Gloria, made everything in there…you're welcome to it."

"I'm fine," Annie said, coloring slightly on the cheeks. It almost felt funny to her, being offered food from her boss' home cooked by her housekeeper. "But thank you."

"If you ever change your mind, go ahead," Diane went on then sighed, "_Please_ because she'll be checking that thing the moment they get home…she tends to pack _more _than one person can handle."

"More than two or three, actually," Nicholas chimed in then turned towards Annie, "She likes to take care of people…cooking and all that."

"She likes to make people _fat_," Diane mumbled.

"That one too and you can just imagine how frustrated she must be," Nicholas said, feigning solemnity. "All those years taking care of my dad and my aunt and they still end up looking…well, you've seen them and they're not exactly cows."

"I am going to pretend I did not hear that cow comment," Diane said airily then looked at Annie, "We ate everything she put in front of us," she declared, patrician nose turned up. "It's not our fault we have a good metabolism."

"That and a gym for you and a personal trainer for dad," Nicholas teased.

"Since I like you, I am going to pretend I didn't hear that as wells."

Annie smothered a laugh behind her hand then suddenly, snapped her fingers, "I forgot to mention—I think Mr. Lockhart was with Mr. McVeigh."

The smile on Diane's face faded a little and Nicholas' eyebrows shot up and the younger woman stopped, wondering what exactly she'd done. She looked at her boss then at her nephew, who had a curious look on his face, looking more and more like his father.

Nicholas turned to his aunt, "Who's Mr. McVeigh?"

-o0o-

Kalinda trusted her instincts.

She did and for most of her life and for the entire part of her career as a private investigator, that trust has always served her well. It wasn't anything fancy like something she trained for in an Ivy League thing—no way in hell—but rather it was just a matter of having a good head on her shoulders, a better set of common sense than the normal Joe and a brain she preferred to use often. She was observant, charismatic and she was very good at taking full advantage of her best qualities and assets.

So why exactly she was doing what she was doing on that particular afternoon? Walking in an empty space that looked like a former office of some sort, her high heeled calf-length boots clicking against the hardwood floors, she immediately knew that something wasn't right. She felt it on the back of her neck and in the way her heart began to thud harshly against her chest, how her breathing seemed to hitch once or twice.

Something wasn't right.

Kalinda had gotten a tip from a source, deftly pointing her to this hell hole. The source wasn't new, but it wasn't old as well yet on this day, she trusted it anyway if only because of the good record she had on it—case after case, whenever she consulted on this particular _friend_, she always got results, but for some reason this time, something _just didn't feel right_.

She was in the middle of a downtown Chicago office, abandoned and barren, save for a few flipped over broken computer chairs, an empty table and piles and piles of paper everywhere. On the door was an old, faded and ripped copy of an eviction notice and she managed to snag that one and stuff it into her pocket, keeping in mind to make sure to check it later to see if it was relevant.

The former tenants of the place was a small boutique firm that closed down for failing to pay for rent and losing clients subsequently after the founder of the struggling little law firm was arrested for drug distribution to minors. As far as her quick search told her, the four lawyers who shared the firm now worked in various places—two in a good firm in the city, one practicing at home and the other had moved on to another state to start anew.

Who were they, Kalinda knew—she had their bio and their history. Were they related to Diane or to what happened? She wasn't sure, _but _there was still a possibility, considering there _was a law firm_ at one point. At best, it was a stretch, but she was willing to give just about anything a try at the moment, considering the importance of the case, but even then, a part of her knew something was _off_.

In her first brush of the place, after observing everything, Kalinda could not find anything or any reason why she should be led to the place in the matter of investigating what really happened to Diane. So far, all the investigator had gotten from the place was a ratty paper, some dust, choice filth and wasted time. Even if she managed to find a scarp of paper in the piles all around her, she doubted it would be pertinent with the case itself. Now, with how things were looking, she was beginning to wonder if perhaps she'd been fed a line to get her _off _some sort of trail.

Kalinda was already in the middle of rethinking her source's tip and was trying to decide whether a personal visit would be warranted today or the next day, though either way, she was settling this score. If anything, she _hated_ having her time wasted, especially if she didn't know _why_, which was something else she was going to make sure she had answered.

Then, out of nowhere, just as she turned towards the door to leave with a frown set on her cool features, a dark shadow passed over her then something hard slammed against the side of her head. The movement was fast and swift with the added bonus of taking her completely by surprise, but the blow itself was the most damaging aspect of it.

It was hard enough to momentarily blind her, throwing her into a dizzying mix of shock and pain and she fell on one knee with a hiss, landing painfully against the hard floors and before she could look up, clutching her throbbing head, another blow followed and this time, slamming harder against the back of her neck, ensuring she went down fully.

Blinded and suddenly needing air more desperately now, the woman fell harshly against the hardwood floors, body slamming as it landed, cheek bouncing painfully before settling and finally ending up sprawled in an ungraceful heap. Disoriented and confused, she only managed to blink before another blow was delivered—this time even harsher and promising more pain.

An unforgiving foot was rammed against her right rib, the hit square and sure, knocking the air out of her and almost completely driving her straight into the darkness. She gasped, eyes slamming shut and heart pounding harder and harder. She could barely feel anything except the pain that was rapidly spreading, radiating from all points and sections of her body and it was all she could do to open her eyes again.

Gasping and hissing for breath, she barely managed to turn her head towards the door, eyes filled with unbidden tears and the only thing she managed to catch fleeting glimpse of was a pair of dark shoes and clothes, rushing away and the door slamming right after, the sound echoing jarringly in her much too turbulent mind.

Kalinda kept gasping for air, never quite getting enough and her body kept insisting on wanting to succumb into the darkness. Her hands were curled tightly, one against her curled body while the other tried hard not to claw against the floors if only for pure instinct. She wheezed for each breath, breathing in the dust from the ground and sputtering now and again.

Lying there, gasping for breath and trying not to pass out, Kalinda knew she should have done the same as she usually did the moment things started not feeling right—get the hell out and away. Something hadn't felt right from the surprise call and she _knew _she shouldn't have gone through with it until she was sure about the tip. She _should have _known. It was a damned rookie mistake. She hissed for a breath again, teary dark eyes filling with anger and _hate _now and she blinked in desperation to clear her vision.

Kalinda had always trusted her instincts.

This was one of the rare moments when she didn't fully listen.

Now the only thing she could do at that moment was to keep awake and not succumb the urge to crawl into the much too welcoming arms of unconsciousness. She wasn't about to do that, no. She couldn't because now she was just wondering _why _she'd been betrayed and by whom.

She hoped whoever this was knew what they'd just done because, as she took a deep breath, ignoring the intense wave of pain it brought with it, her mind centered on one thought and one thought only—_someone was going to pay_.

And it wasn't just for the pain and the unwarranted act of blatant betrayal, no.

_Nobody _was allowed to do this to her, to treat her as if she was just another rag tag idiot you could trot around like a lost blind puppy. Someone did this to her _deliberately _with no provocation and as much as it annoyed her, her fragile trust _and _her pride had been shattered in one fell swoop and that _did not _sit well with her.

She lay there, unmoving and fighting for each breath, chest heaving and her head and middle throbbing with mounting pain. And yet, even then, there was one thing that dominated her feelings at that very moment.

Kalinda was pissed as hell.

-o0o0o0o0o0o-

Thank you for the reviews.

Thank you to MarySunshine again. For saving me. Again.


	16. Chapter 16: Boys

**Blackout  
**by: raileht  
**  
****Summary:** It was over. The fight in her was almost completely out and she was nearing total exhaustion. She was about to die.  
**Disclaimer: **The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.  
**Rating: **T, to be safe

**Spoilers/Timeline:** post-finale but the last scene with McVeigh and Lockhart (when she came to see him in the end) never took place in this story. Also, Eli Gold isn't in the firm and let's pretend Alicia found some other way to stay in L&G. And of course, Peter is still in jail.**  
****Warning: **Bad words and a lot of violence right from the start. Will be a somewhat dark story so people will be in pain—physical and emotional. Maybe not for the faint hearted.

**Note: writing this is becoming harder and harder.**

**Chapter Title taken from:  
**The Beatles, _Boys_

-o0oo0oo0o-

**Chapter Sixteen: Boys**

"With friends like these, who needs enemies?"

De Luca looked up to see his young partner walk into their section of the pen, "Got something?"

"Yeah," Detective Clancy grunted, sitting himself down in the seat meant for visitors in front of his superior's desk. "We checked people worth checking out and most of them have an alibi or aren't good enough to be suspects but they're no better than scum we put away either. Example—Jonas Stern, god knows what that crack pot is up to these days, but he's got an alibi for that night."

"Stern left the firm months ago," De Luca pointed out. "Heard it was ugly."

Clancy nodded, "Yeah, kind of was. He was the victim's mentor too, but apparently, they didn't part on the best of terms..."

"He's got an alibi?"

"Yeah, solid," Clancy scowled little though he was glad he hadn't been the one to question the man. He'd heard of Jonas Stern, of his cases where he took down cops who _were _great before he dealt with them. He'd heard enough from his father that the moment Stern crossed a cop's path, they were lucky enough to get out with scratches—the man loved to seek out blood and tear careers into pieces.

What he had heard, he didn't like and Clancy imagined the man must be good, but he hadn't been around long enough to have seen Stern during his hey days so to him, the guy was pretty much what De Luca told him he was—an old crack pot who loved living in his past. It didn't help that he's seen the man a few times around the city too, dressed as he usually was with that crazy mop of hair on his head. The man reminded him a little of those little people from Lord of the Rings with the hairy feet.

"What was he up to?" De Luca asked, mildly interested.

"Passed out drunk at the Fort," Clancy answered, rolling his eyes slightly. "Celebrating some win and he's got pictures with time stamps to prove it."

"Well, gotta let that one go," De Luca shrugged, "B'sides, you don't want that crazy mother running after you. Stern's losing it, from what I hear, you don't want him pegging you as part of some conspiracy crap. Stay off the guy. He's not it."

"Noted," Clancy nodded, "I checked on Overby's alibi. Mr. Flowers was clear that night too, caught in some dinner with his partners, a monthly thing at the Red Room."

"Nothing like reviewing the month's biggest suckers," his boss grumbled, "Who else do we have?"

"Patrick Lowell," the younger man read from his list, "We got his name from the firm. A lot of people seemed to agree he didn't have a graceful exit when he got fired…had to be escorted out of the building." He flipped a few pages in his steno pad. "He worked for the firm for twelve years in Litigation and got fired during the layoffs. He was one of Lockhart's people."

"She fired him?"

"Hm, no," Clancy answered, twirling a pen in one hand. "Scuttlebutt says it was the other partner, Will Gardner…some sort of war between him and Lockhart when things got rough."

"Office politics—ain't she a bitch?" De Luca nodded, "So why would he go after Lockhart if Gardner fired him?"

"Spitballing," Clancy shrugged, "If I got fired, I don't think I'd care who did what, I mean, giving up more than a decade of my best years for a place like that then getting fired out of the blue? I'd be plenty pissed with anything and everyone."

"Lucky you're not a lawyer then," De Luca commented, "Got a bead on him yet?"

"Still looking," Clancy answered, "But we got someone to his ex-wife's house. They divorced a few months ago. She said she hasn't seen him in a while. I'll keep a BOLO on him."

"That's one," De Luca nodded, "What about that other guy they fired—Oliver Hanson?"

"Mergers and Acquisition," he flipped a few pages on his steno pad again, chewing the tip of his pen. "Worked for the firm eight years then got fired on the second round of layoffs—man, that firm must've hit the skids hard—and he was pretty vocal about his protests about being fired."

"Whose people was he?"

"Neutral," Clancy shrugged, "He threw a fit when they fired him and a lot of people saw him almost breaking one of those fancy glass walls they have."

"Well? Did we find him?"

He nodded, "Yeah. He's working for some firm downtown…some hole in the wall. He's still bitter, but he's got an alibi. He's pissed _at _the firm, but no one in particular or at least he didn't mention Diane Lockhart."

"Like he would after seeing what's on the news," De Luca shook his head, "They're soulless, but they're not _all _idiots. Do we have more people?"

Clancy nodded, "I'm heading off to see a couple more, but to be honest, I'm not expecting to find much."

"Yeah, yeah," De Luca nodded, waving his hand. "Look into as many people as you can from that firm. Those layoffs had to have pissed off more people than those two."

"It wouldn't make sense though, right?" Clancy said, thinking out loud for the most part. "I mean…the letters are dated _before _the firm even started getting into trouble…how can it be someone they laid off?"

"We're being thorough, but I agree," De Luca admitted, "Let's just cover the bases, all right? If someone knew something was going on, they could have just as well taken this opportunity to hit when it could be easily pinned on someone else." He grabbed a folder from his desk, "How are we along on those letters anyway?"

"No prints, no fibers," his junior answered as he grabbed his own file, "They were clean. The labs are dealing with the handwriting and word analysis now." He looked up at his boss, "We just got the letters Spellman wrote and they're cross matching it with the anonymous ones from the house."

"Keep me posted on that," De Luca said with a slight frown, "Evidence from the house?"

"The guy tampered with the lights, that much we know, but we still don't know why," he shrugged, "Who knows? Maybe he wanted to keep her in the dark for the attack."

"And then just decided to put the lights back on for visitors later?" De Luca said with a slight tone to his voice.

Clancy thought for a moment, "The lights are scheduled to turn on by themselves…maybe he wasn't expecting her to be found for a while. If the lights stayed on and off when they're supposed to, chances of people growing suspicious would have been less. She could have been dead for a while and no one would have noticed…"

"She's a partner at a law firm," De Luca said with a slight grunt, "Someone would have noticed. What else?"

"Overby confirmed the flowers were from him and what they were for," Clancy rolled his eyes, "Guy was a schmuck, but he was honest about it."

"What about the vehicle where we found Jackson in?"

"Still processing," Clancy answered, "There are some…anomalies, but the labs have been ordered to retest and reevaluate. Egbert was ready to present, but seems like the Chief beat you to him and ordered a retest of everything."

"What the hell for?" De Luca growled. He wasn't an unreasonable man, but one thing he hated was when people intervened on his investigations. He didn't like that, it left them vulnerable to mistakes and possibly getting rammed in the courtroom with stupid things like that.

"We're not sure yet," the younger man said, swallowing slightly. "Chief ordered it, but—"

"Tell _Egghead_ I'm going down there," De Luca sniped, irritated now. He wasn't a lapdog and he didn't care what the Chief said. He had a case to close. "What about the gun used to kill Jackson?"

"No registration and the serial numbers were either filed or sanded off—"

"Destroyed?" the older man raised his eyebrows, "Any way to at least get something off it?"

"They're trying, but Masterson—he's the new guy in ballistics—thinks he might be able to do something with it," Clancy shook his head, "Science stuff, but he's going to try though I don't know how that's going to help since I think this gun was either stolen or bought off the street."

"A dead end," De Luca muttered, "Check anyway. What about Jackson's place?"

"A mess, but nothing much that can help us," Clancy shook his head, "The pictures found there—all of them the victim and evidently taken in typical stalker fashion, but we're still processing those…he had money but looks like he was burning them faster than a drunk in a liquor store."

"Have we established whether he was paid to do something?"

"That's the theory, but we're not getting anything much," Clancy shrugged, "For all we know he robbed, stole or sold something prior to the attack, but we're checking the serials on the cash, just in case…banks are pretty careful with those these days, maybe that might help."

His boss nodded, "Did we get anything else in the victim's house?"

"Nothing except the samples from the main crime scene," Clancy answered, "But those we already matched with Jackson. We're sure he was the one who attacked the victim." He snapped a finger, "Oh, and we cleared the people on duty at the lake that night. A Mario Perez and Manny Sikes—these two were the ones who got the first call and they were finishing up some checks around the neighborhood before they decided to check on Diane Lockhart. We know the rest—Mario comes in, finds Will Gardner with the victim and they waited for the ambulance."

De Luca nodded, "Sounds about right. Those two were clueless anyway, just a couple of joes doing work."

"Yeah, they would have been first at the scene if Gardner hadn't arrived," Clancy nodded then looked at his boss, "Are we still getting messages from the head honchos about this?"

De Luca rolled his eyes again, "Isn't that supposed to be your job to know?" He shook his head, "Yeah, we are. They want this closed and with a body in the morgue and the victim alive and talking, they're just about ready to close this one and report a job well done to their adoring press."

"Aren't they rushing into things?"

"They want results," De Luca said, scowling. "They want things tied in a pretty pink bow to hand over to the public, the press and whoever the hell's chomping on their asses to get this done. The higher the profile of the cases they close, the happier the public are and the bigger chances of them keeping their asses in their seats."

"Politics," Clancy shook his head. "They're really ready to close?"

"They have the body, the crime, the evidence and a live victim," De Luca shrugged, "Who gives a fuck about the why? Far as they know, this is a done deal."

"But we haven't even established a motive," Clancy said, puzzled. "Shouldn't we at least try and figure out why he picked her?"

"They'll chalk it up to a random event," De Luca shrugged, "They won't say anything about the photos or the letters. They'll say it was a break in gone wrong."

"What?"

De Luca nodded, "But that might get them in trouble too. Diane Lockhart's a damned good lawyer and her firm's pretty good…if they suspect _any _kind of slip with the department, they're going to be pissed as hell. 'Course, they'll blame it on us and we'll be toast…but who cares?"

"That's stupid," Clancy frowned, "And I'm not risking my career to make things easier for them."

De Luca nodded, "Same here kid, but that's bureaucratic nightmare for you."

Clancy's eyes flashed in a hint of anger, "If all this was _that _easy…why does it feel like we're not done yet?"

De Luca looked at his younger partner with a grim look on his face, "Because we're not."

Clancy stared at his boss, "Your gut…it's telling you something?"

"Yeah," De Luca said, flipping his folder closed. "We've barely scratched the surface on this one. You up for it?"

The younger man sat up straighter, "Of course."

"We still have Spellman to think about," De Luca shook his head, "The son of a bitch is still in the wind. Probably hiding now, but we're not letting him get away this easy."

Clancy thought for a moment, "Do you think he had something to do with this?"

"Don't know," he shrugged, "But he's dangerous and he's violated his parole. We're bringing him in whether he had something to do with this or not."

"I'll call around," his partner said, nodding.

"Good," De Luca grunted as he began to move. "I'm going to talk to some people…intervening with my investigation, those idiots. They know the rules…"

The young detective watched as his boss tossed the folder aside and stood up, lumbering out of the pen and heading off further into the inner sections of the precinct. He stared at the file in his hands, similar to the ones his boss had with the logo of the Chicago Police Department on the front. Clancy ran the evidence list in his mind again, wondering if his boss was seeing something he wasn't.

He checked his steno pad again, flipping through the pages. He'd interviewed so many people at Lockhart & Gardner, his notes were still in a somewhat shameful disarray. He knew he should have had this fixed the night before, but even then he was still going over the case.

Finding a few more names and realizing he was still had a few addresses, Clancy shook his head at himself. His notes were pathetic. He grabbed the cup of coffee sitting on the near corner of his desk, scribbling a few notes into his pad. De Luca was rarely ever wrong and if he was right about this one, then Clancy wasn't prepared to be the potential scapegoat of the higher ups just because they were worried about reelection and earning points. He was only beginning his career, there was no way he was going to let this case end it.

The big boys were leaning heavily on their boss and it was obvious certain sacrifices were about to be made and as much as Clancy wanted to be a good little soldier, he wasn't feeling good enough to lie still and take it. If there were things on this case that needed a closer look at with no worries about politics or certain selfish agendas, Clancy knew he and his boss were going to focus on it.

De Luca never really cared for politics and Clancy was beginning to learn he felt the same way. He had a job to do and that was what was important to him. He could care less about getting ahead. He was fine where he was anyway. Scribbling a few more notes and flipping his own folder open, he reread the latest page of the updates from the lab.

What he read was the same one he had read when he first got the copy. It was also the same one he had just reported to his boss and somehow, even with the thoroughness he'd read the report, Clancy couldn't help but think he had missed something.

Shaking his head slightly and cursing under his breath, he grabbed the phone on his desk, only then remembering what his boss had told him to do. He waited until the other end picked up, "Oh, hey egghead—" he shot forward slightly in his seat, "I mean Egbert. Sorry, that was an honest mistake….yeah, uh, Tony's coming down there…yeah, he heard about the retesting…what do you expect? 'Course he was pissed…yeah, yeah. I'll be there too…look man, I'm sorry, serious…total slip…thanks."

Leaning back in his seat once more, Clancy let his hand fall on his face with a stinging meet of skin to skin. It was a slap of sorts for that stupid slip. He'd been taught to respect people and certainly calling someone named Egbert _egghead _definitely _not _showing respect. He hated that slip, knowing that he'd just become the rest of the guys in the department. He was never the kid in the playgrounds who picked on the nerds and the geeks and now look what he'd just done.

Clancy sighed, blaming the slip on the sudden edge he'd found himself in. It wasn't pleasant to be informed that _maybe _your bosses _might _torpedo your career to further their own. Clancy knew they'd always been sons of bitches, but he certainly hadn't expected _this _would happen to him. He was still a junior detective, for god's sake and he hadn't even been planning on moving any time soon, not when he was working with one of the city's best already.

He grabbed the coffee cup near the edge of his desk, taking a long sip before putting it down again.

Clancy was beginning to wonder why he'd become a detective in the first place.

He was pretty sure he wanted to be a car as a kid.

-o0o-

"Yeah, sure, thanks."

Will rolled his eyes, putting the phone back in its cradle before sitting back in his chair. For the most part of his morning, he'd spent trying to placate Tyler Penn and talking him down from a law suit. The rich brat had been on the verge again, insisting he _needed _to sue his chemistry teacher from high school for 'emotional trauma' during his 'difficult lessons' and Will had practically white knuckled through the whole sorry tale.

Tyler was a son of one of their clients, a rich twenty-three year old college dropout living off of his family fortune. When not trekking the world or buying this gadget or that, Tyler was listing off names in his head on whom he could sue. For a while, Diane had been the one in charge of him since the father, Patrick Penn, trusted her implicitly, but eventually, she'd grown tired of the constant interruptions and the nuisance suits the boy insisted on filing.

Inevitably, Diane ended up reprimanding the then twenty-one year old in the sternest possible manner. Tyler had cried foul and tried to get his father to drop her as his lawyer, but instead, they managed to make him go with Will instead while Diane handled his father's affairs. When everything seemed in agreement, Will found himself teasing and gloating to Diane how he'd managed to bag _her_ client.

Expecting her to scowl at him, she didn't. Instead, she smiled serenely and simply expressed her congratulations and told him he was exactly what Tyler needed.

If Will had known then what he knew now, he would have begged her to take the kid back, but now, it was too late. Most of his morning had been blown already and he'd just spent the last ten minutes assuring one of Diane's clients that she was okay and that they should ignore the offers from the other firms that were eagerly knocking. Will had listed down the names of those firms, vowing some form of payback for later.

They were vultures, all of them and Will couldn't wait to exercise some sort of retaliation. They were lucky if they were just going to be dealing with him because Will knew if Diane ever found out the other firms had tried to grab one of her clients, he was sure she was going to be less than pleased.

Especially if she found out one of her friends had been one of those who'd tried to woo her client away.

Looking at the pile of papers on his desk, Will found his attention drawn towards the envelope that had been left on his desk earlier, his eyes gravitating towards the photos that were face down in a small slightly messy pile—those were the photos Kalinda had taken from Diane's house. He wasn't sure how she found them and he wasn't going to ask, but he wanted to know _why_ Diane had been keeping them.

The letters had been left out, that much he knew, at least they were left out enough for the police to find during a search, but the photos, from what he knew, were hidden quite well. He had observed them, trying to find a semblance of a timeline on them since they were not dated in any way. Will had tried to match the hairstyle and length of her hair, but that had been futile since Diane's ever changing styles didn't leave much of a trail.

He had tried remembering outfits, but only got as far as what type of clothes she wore, but even those were unreliable—the weather was erratic in Chicago, especially this year.

Shaking his head slightly, Will grabbed the photos again. They'd been taken in her closet, that much Kalinda had told him when she described where she'd found them. They were in a compartment in Diane's walk-in closet, hidden and under a lock. There were nothing else, not even the other letters which meant Diane kept them separate.

Will tried to figure out why she kept silent, why she didn't feel inclined to at least clue him in. Was it about trust? He was wondering if that was the case.

_Unless…_

He sat up, sitting forward in his chair and gathered the photos in one pile. Will wasn't one for conspiracy theories—reality and what was being dealt on his table was enough—but somehow, he wondered if perhaps there was something to the photos that Diane didn't want to be found. Unless there was something, a message maybe, in the photos that only she could understand.

Scanning the photos again, flipping from one to another until the pile was back on his desk, he looked at the photos as a whole. They were mostly of Diane doing every day things—walking down the street, talking to an associate or an employee, stepping out of the courthouse, emerging from her car and while they were disconcerting that all these had been taken without her knowing, Will couldn't see anything that was forming a pattern or anything that could render that _there _was a message somewhere other than she was being watched.

Will rolled his eyes at himself, amazed at how _Da Vinci Code_ he was getting all of a sudden. He scowled, tossing the photos back on his desk then rubbed his hands together. The more he tried to make sense of things, the more confusing they were seeming and he didn't like it one bit.

Of course, he had the option of going to Diane and confronting her about a few things, but Will didn't think that was a smart move at all. He knew himself well enough to know if he went there now, he _might _just start something they both weren't ready for and they were not ready for different reasons—Diane was still recovering, much as she tried to deny it, and he was still reeling from recent events.

He was barely able to concentrate on work, let alone the things he needed to deal with and figuring out exactly what had been happening _right under his nose_ for the last few months was not something he could just walk into without some sort of preparation and making sure he would be able to control himself. No, Will needed to deal with this matter with a clear head and in the smartest possible way.

Will wanted answers and he wanted them yesterday, but he wasn't about to come charging into things like a bull in a china shop. At this point, it was feeling as if too much was at stake already and Diane had already left him out long enough. If he upset her through a confrontation, he was pretty sure she would block him _completely _from everything.

And that was the last thing they needed because as much as Will was concerned, he was already involved in the whole thing and it was too late to turn back. But even if he could, he wouldn't because the fact of the matter was, there was no way he would ever want to anyway, not when it came to Diane.

He could only imagine just how she was feeling about this, for someone who reveled in her own privacy and being able to live freely. To know she was being watched without her consent, being followed and having her life be invaded like that, Will knew that must have affected her greatly, which was what made him wonder just how she was able to cope through the whole thing for so long by herself.

Will could barely imagine what kind of torture it must have been, to go anywhere, be with anyone and wonder if you're being watched at that exact moment or if there's someone following you. The psychological aspect alone left him wondering just how Diane managed not to snap.

Shaking his head, Will began to rub his temple as a dull throbbing began in his head. He was frustrated with everything that was happening and being kept in the dark was not helping at all. He had people looking already but even then, as good as they were at their jobs, they weren't finding much. Evidence on Jackson was little, whoever else might be involved seemed incredibly skilled at hiding their tracks _and _Diane's somewhat impressive ability to keep secrets was not helping matters at all.

Not to mention the fact that Jeffrey Spellman himself, the man who had threatened to kill Diane the moment he got out of prison, seemed to have vanished into thin air. Will scowled at the thought of that bastard being anywhere, that he might just be the one responsible for what had happened to his partner. He swore to himself if he found the man, he wouldn't outright hand him over to the authorities. He wasn't sure if he would even be able to.

If Daniel was serious about what possible connections he may have, then Will might just call in favors of his own. He wasn't above touching murky waters, especially if it involved bastards like Spellman who didn't even deserve to be among innocent people. If he had a hand in what had been done to Diane, Will wasn't going to hesitate in exacting some form of payback.

Will rubbed the back of his neck tensely, thinking about how the whole thing just continued to piss him off by giving him one migraine after another. He hated being on edge.

He let his eyes fall close, setting his jaw as he tried so very hard not to throw something against the wall as his thoughts returned to his hospital bound partner.

Diane was a little _too good _at being by herself.

-o0o-

Alicia Florrick fought the urge to roll her eyes when she arrived back in her office.

On her visitor's chair sat one of the last people she was up to seeing that day, but of course, just because he was being him, he was there. She pasted a somewhat sarcastic smile on her face as she walked towards her desk, sitting herself down silently and eyeing the intruder who was now smiling at her. She was busy with work that day and try as she might, she couldn't fully welcome her guest the way she had recently learned to.

It had suddenly turned into an interesting little habit of one of her husband's new _people _to drop by her office whenever it suited him. Of course, she knew he only ever went to her if he needed something or if there were matters concerning her husband that he couldn't deal with alone.

At first it had bothered her, to have someone like Eli Gold, a known political operative, coming to her office where everyone could see and observe them, but now, she had grown used to it and his ways. His dropping by unannounced had turned into these amusingly warped little visits that she had begun to simply become used to. Eli, twisted as he could be, was an amusing man and she liked that he didn't seem inclined to lie or even treat her with kid gloves just because she was Alicia Florrick, wife of the once great Peter Florrick, the State's Attorney who had fallen from grace in the hands of a hooker and an ambitious underling.

Peter had been denied being released on house arrest and that had been around the same time Daniel Goldman, his lawyer, decided to bring in some reinforcements and that was Eli. He was known in the circles to be vicious, relentless and ingenious in his ways, which was something Daniel and, later Peter, agreed they needed in their camp and bringing in Eli had caused them enough waves to move the current State's Attorney, Glenn Childs, into scrambling.

Hiring Eli was basically setting off a bomb, one that nobody expected the still incarcerated Peter Florrick to let off, but he did anyway. Putting the notorious political strategist in his camp was an equal to declaring that he was _still _aiming to run for office the moment he got out. It had set off the press already that Peter was already plotting a return to politics even while in jail and waiting for his trial, but to actually get Eli to agree to be in their corner? It was anarchy.

And it was enough to have Glenn Childs leaning on everything he could lean on to push for Peter's trial. He was aiming to lock him in jail for as long as possible and how they got Eli to be on their side had been enough to send him spinning and everyone in Peter's team had been glad about that because they got the _exact _reaction they needed.

With Glenn Childs pushing for a case, pushing everything he could push to make sure Peter Florrick stayed in his cage, he was setting off one mistake after another. It was only a matter of time before he made enough mistakes to get Peter exactly what he needed—evidence that would lead to his acquittal.

And if the smile on Eli's face was any indication, they were coming close to their goal.

"Mr. Gold," Alicia said pleasantly. "How nice to see you again."

He smiled wider, "Mrs. Florrick, hello. I didn't intrude this time. Your assistant told me to wait here."

She nodded, "Yes, I know. She informed me. Sorry, I was discussing a few things with my boss…"

"How is Mr. Gardner?" Eli Gold smiled pleasantly, sitting with his back straight on the chair, dressed in one of his impeccable suits, as always. "I heard about what happened to Miss Lockhart. I'm sorry."

Alicia nodded, "They're both fine. Now, what can I do for you?"

"I spoke with Peter," he said, nodding a little, "Mr. Goldman and I have been working on some…strategies for court for his pending hearing?"

She nodded, "To fight the abuse of office charges, yes."

"We've spoken to some people," Eli began, "And I can tell you right now, Mrs. Florrick…I think we can win this, your husband's case."

"Really?" Alicia said, raising her eyebrows. "That's good."

"That's excellent, actually," Eli replied, spreading his arms in front of him, "If all goes well with Peter's trial, he'll be a free man."

Alicia stared at him for a moment before replying, "…just in time to get things set up for him to declare his intentions…whether he's running again or not."

He nodded, "Yes."

"So, why are you here, Eli?" Alicia asked, crossing her arms over her chest as she sat.

"Nothing," he shrugged, "Just thought I'd give you an update."

She gave him a look.

"And just checking on things here, at the firm," he looked outside of her office where everything seemed fine, "I admit the whole unfortunate incident with your boss has brought forth some concerns."

"Concerns?" Alicia repeated, frowning a little. "Like what?"

"There are rumblings that this might be related to the firm," Eli shrugged, "You know, typical horror stories about grudges and things. I just came by…to make sure you're fine."

"Did Peter send you?"

"No," Eli said, shaking his head, "But he is worried, of course. You're okay, aren't you?"

Alicia nodded, "I'm fine."

"Okay," Eli nodded, "That's good. Work going well?"

She managed a small smile, "Yes."

"Interesting cases?"

"A few," she nodded. "Anything else?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. This had to be the strangest visit to date. Eli was never one to just drop by without a specific reason and usually, she could easily pluck out what it is, but for some reason, either he was being even more vague than usual _or _he really just decided to drop by. She wouldn't put it past him to lie about being sent by Peter too.

He shook his head, "No, but I was wondering about something…I mean, I'm here anyway and I'm sure you know at least a little about what's happening with your boss…"

"Will?"

"No, Diane Lockhart actually," Eli shrugged nonchalantly, "I mean, I've met her a few times. Lovely woman, incredibly fierce lawyer—always goes for the jugular."

Alicia nodded slowly, "Yes, what about Diane?"

He waved a nonchalant hand, "Meh, just heard a few things around the town about her brother being here."

"Oh, Daniel Lockhart?" Alicia said, even more puzzled now, "Yes, he's here. He arrived just yesterday."

"Daniel Lockhart is _in _Chicago?" Eli's eyes grew wide, "_Here_?"

"Yes," she replied. "Why do you seem so stunned?"

"Er, nothing," Eli said, shaking his head a little, "I've heard of Dan…it's just, it's been years since he's actually stayed in Chicago, that's all. For a while, we actually thought he was going to follow his father's footsteps, go into politics. Him and Diane, actually."

"Oh," Alicia said, frowning a little. "I've never met him but from the impression I got, he doesn't seem very interested in politics _or _Chicago."

"That's true," Eli nodded, "But it's a waste, isn't it? Diane Lockhart could just as well have been her father had she gone into politics and if you add Daniel…can you imagine?"

"They would have been a dream," Alicia smirked, "For you."

"Yes," Eli nodded, "They could dominate Chicago, being they seemed raised for the taking."

"Yes, but what can we do, right?" Alicia said, shrugging and wondering silently why they were talking about her boss and her family. Why did everyone seem inclined to talk about Diane Lockhart today? Alicia knew what happened made them think about her, but why were they coming to_ her_ when she barely even knew the woman? Not that she minded, but it was curious. It wasn't exactly a secret they didn't have a perfect first meet.

"Right," Eli nodded.

"Mr. Gold, wha—"

"Oh, look at the time," Eli said, standing up suddenly. "I completely forgot I have something to take care of. Just came by to check on you actually and, you know, update you on what's happening."

Alicia stood up as well, "Yes, thank you for that."

She watched him for a moment, "Are you sure that's it? I mean, is there anything else?"

"No, that's all," Eli smiled in that peculiar way of his that always made Alicia wonder if he ever smiled like that before ripping people apart. It was friendly but eerie in a way that made it almost seem worst than if he'd given that person a glare or a hiss instead, "I'll see you, Mrs. Florrick. Have a good day."

Alicia watched with her bafflement increasing as the well-dressed man waltzed out of her office. He had his phone pressed to his ear by the time he was in the middle of the floor, walking rapidly. His hands were gesturing somewhat energetically as his arm cradled his coat, all the while maintaining his grace.

He was an odd man, Alicia decided with a small smile she couldn't help. She was sure she'd just missed something, that somehow Eli had come for an altogether different reason that wasn't entirely about informing her about what was happening—as it was, he didn't even say much in the first place.

Shaking her head slightly and rolling her chair back to her desk, Alicia put her phone on her desk, fingers reaching for the keyboard, intent on finishing the last of the work that she had left to do for Erica Howard's defense. It wasn't much work and she was sure she could have the case kicked with no problems. If she finished early, she could still get some work in on Sheffrin-Marks and accumulate more useful billable hours.

Ignoring the meeting she just had, Alicia went on to work, deciding that whatever just happened, if she had to know, she would find out later. There was no use in dwelling about what Eli Gold could have been up to anyway. As far as politics was concerned, Alicia was staying away. All she cared about was whether Peter was going to be able to come home or not because all Alicia cared about were their children.

They deserve to have their father home with them.

And the rest—politics, Glenn Childs, the false allegations—could go to hell for all she cared.

-o0o-

"So should I cross them off my list?"

Diane rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a smile on her face. She tapped a few more keys on her phone and pressed 'send' before looking at her nephew again who was sitting with his feet on a bar under her bed, his laptop perched on his lap. She had tried to make him leave a few times already, insisting that he needed to go back to New Haven for school, but he had refused, practicing some well-known Lockhart stubbornness by insisting he could do his work from his laptop and video conferencing.

They'd argued about it until he pulled out his laptop, demonstrating that he could still definitely work while staying in her hospital room. She'd tried to chastise him them, only to have him ignore her and playfully shush her because he was _working_. She had rolled her eyes, deciding she too would get some work done via her phone as well.

Both Lockharts were indeed terribly thankful and dependent on modern technology.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to ask me?" she asked, raising her eyebrow at him when he looked up at her.

"But that was because you didn't want to dictate my choices even when I asked you to," Nicholas said with the most innocent smile he could muster, "Now I'm asking you mainly for…your professional opinion. I'm serious about considering coming back to Chicago. Stern is out the window, but Long & Gosset offered too."

"And you expect me to give you inside information on my competition?" she smirked, "Clever boy, but no."

"Oh, come on," her nephew teased, "I mean, what am I going to do? The firm I wanted to work for didn't even bother to send me a letter of a reply."

Diane smirked, "You don't need a letter of reply. Lockhart & Gardner would _love_ to have you, but no. We're not taking first year associates with the same last name as one particular partner right now."

Nicholas snorted, "I can change my last name, you know. I still have Blackwell…or am I more qualified for MacDougal?"

She chuckled, "Neither. No, Nicholas, you are _not _working in my firm."

"Why not?" he asked, leaning forward and folding his laptop closed. "You know I'm not an idiot, you know I'll be more inclined to behave under my favorite aunt's watch. I'll be your dream associate."

"No," she shook her head, "It'll be harder if you're there and believe me when I say, you don't want me as your boss, darling."

"I could always ask Mr. Gardner," he wheedled.

"Yes, but Mr. Gardner will still need to confer with me so," she tilted her head to the side just as her phone began to beep, "Guess what I'll say?"

Nicholas grinned while she checked her phone, "You're a very mean aunt, do you know that? Odd too. Some people actually _like _having their relatives working with them. Nepotism and loyalty, is what they like calling it, I think."

"Mhm," Diane hummed, "Not this family—we're against nepotism in terms of work."

"That's _so _encouraging," he said sarcastically, putting his laptop on the bedside table and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "This might just bump you from favorite aunt to just plain aunt."

Diane smirked, "Much as I enjoy that title, I'll risk it and remind you…I'm your _only _aunt."

"Well, by blood, yes," he grinned, "But I still have dad's other wives."

She laughed then, "Oh, yes, go ahead. I know you liked Charlie, but don't tell me you've forgiven the other one…"

Nicholas grimaced, "Well, Charlie's okay..."

"Ah, of course," Diane nodded slowly, "Well, I'm sure Charlie will be thrilled. Have you met her new girlfriend?"

"Not yet," he tilted his head to the side, "Are you working?"

"Yes," Diane said, tapping at the keys of her phone again, "And if you tell me not to, you will be sorry."

"Hey," Nicholas said, feigning hurt. "You can't threaten me. I'm your precious nephew."

Diane stopped, grinning wide as she looked at her him again, "I'm going to turn on the recorder of my phone. Say that again?"

"Ha! Entrapment? Nice try!"

The pair laughed, enjoying each other's easy company and barely noticed the door to the room opening.

"Well, now this is a party."

Nicholas turned, his laughter fading away as he took in the sight of his father and a stranger entering. The two were still by the doors when he noticed the new arrival in the room. He stood up, a serious expression settling on his face as he stood to his full height, standing in front of his father and the stranger, effectively blocking them from further entry and from his aunt's view.

"Nicky?" Diane called but he ignored her.

"Who's that?" he asked, the traces of laughter gone from his features as he took in the man who was dressed in a dark button down and a brown coat.

"Easy tiger," Daniel said, shaking his head as he tapped his son on the shoulder playfully. "This is Mr. Kurt McVeigh. He's a friend of your aunt's."

"Kurt?" the surprise and confusion was clear in Diane's voice and Nicholas looked back at her, giving her a questioning look but she waved her hand, "It's fine."

Daniel turned to Kurt, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly, "What did I tell you? Kid's a menace. It's like he expects me to bring Nazis into the room…"

Kurt managed to hide his grin by bending his head down, "Right."

"Thanks, dad," Nicholas said sarcastically, glancing at the stranger again before turning back further into the room, taking his seat back beside his aunt and watched the two men follow.

"Kurt."

Nicholas looked at his aunt and saw the smile on her face. He was still a little tense—he didn't like strange people just coming into the room—but if the smile was any indication, his aunt not only knew the man, she obviously knew him well. He glanced at his dad who waggled his eyebrows at him before heading to the table where he had laid out the food.

"Hey," Kurt said, smiling as he took the other side of the bed.

"Nick," Diane reached for her nephew, tugging at him a little to make him stand. She smiled at him encouragingly, gesturing to the other man on her side, "Nicholas, this is Kurt McVeigh. He's a friend of mine." She turned to her _friend_, "Kurt, this is Nicholas, my nephew."

"Daniel's son," Kurt said, nodding a little at the younger man.

"Allegedly," Daniel piped up with his mouth half-filled with bagel. His sister shot him a look which promptly shut him up and he went back to his pastry.

"Hi," Nicholas said, extending his hand across the bed though he was still obviously wary, "It's Nick and…yeah, _allegedly_ his son."

Kurt nodded, bobbing his head a little as they shook hands, "Hey."

"Nicky is here for a _very_ short visit," she gave Nicholas a pointed look. "So you'll have to excuse him when he behaves a little, well…" she smiled at her nephew, "Just don't mind him."

Kurt nodded, "Okay. Nice to meet you."

"You too," Nick said, nodding a little as he took his seat back.

Before anyone else could say anything, Daniel joined in on the conversation, waving the last piece of his bagel in his son's direction. "Nicky, he's dating your aunt," Daniel said, sitting at the foot of the bed with an idiotic grin directed at his son, "He's your Aunt Danni's _special friend_."

Diane's foot shot forward, landing easily on her brother's thigh, "Daniel!"

"Ow!" Daniel cried, stuffing his bagel in his mouth and catching her foot just in time before she could land another hit, "What, it's true!"

"You don't have to be so crass about it!"

"Well, I tried!"

"Of course you did!"

"Are they always like this?" Kurt asked lowly across the bed.

Nicholas shook his head, "Worst."

"He's well over twenty, Danni," Daniel pointed out, still holding on to her foot even as she squirmed. "He knows what sex—"

"Okay!" Nicholas shot up in his seat, waving his hand in front of him. "I'm out. I need to make a few phone calls. I'll be outside." He turned to Kurt, staring at him for a moment before shaking his head, "It was, er, nice to meet you, Mr. McVeigh, but excuse me…I have that, uh, phone call."

"Nick…" Diane started only to have him turn to her with a smile.

"I just need to make a phone call," Nicholas said, grinning crookedly "I'm not…_permanently _scarred _yet_, don't worry."

She smiled, shaking her head slightly, "I'll kill your father, okay?"

Nicholas glanced at his father who smiled at him mischievously, "Sure. Go ahead."

The young man left, leaving the three adults in the room in silence. Diane glared at her brother who continued to grin at her, "I did you favor. He would have had to know eventually that you and," he glanced at Kurt, "him are together-together."

Diane glared at him, "Get out."

"Aw, you want to welcome your lover back properly?" Daniel teased, "Go ahead. I promise I won't look."

"Daniel!"

"Scouts honor!" he made a move of covering his eyes with his hands like a child, obviously peeking. "See?"

"Daniel, I swear to _god_ I will call Gwen to Chicago and I _will _make sure she stays at the house," Diane snapped, "I mean it, Daniel, I'll call her and get her on a plane myself!"

"That's not fair!" Daniel cried, "I _actually _like your boyfriend, what's so wrong about that?"

"You like him _too much_," his sister replied haughtily, "And you made your own son go away."

"Uh, technically," Daniel said mockingly, "_You _and your _lover _made _him _go away."

"Daniel Lockhart, one phone call, I swear, just _one_."

"Oh, Christ! You know you can't always dangle Gwen whenever you're mad at me…"

"Of course I can," she smirked, "I will do so as long as it works and I'm guessing this is going to work for a _long_ time, considering you've been divorced, oh, I don't know, twenty years now?"

Kurt watched and was surprised when the playful man's grin disappeared and he stood up, grabbing another pastry from the table before heading towards the door.

"See? What did I tell you?" Daniel shot over his shoulder with a feigned mutinous look on his face, "She fights dirty! I am amazed she hasn't been disbarred yet!"

They watched him go and Diane shook her head when she heard the door dramatically slam close then turned to her remaining visitor. Suddenly, she began to feel self-conscious. It was okay hanging out with her nephew and even mocking Daniel, but left with Kurt? She was beginning to suddenly feel incredibly unattractive and _unkempt_, which technically she _was_. Then she mentally slapped herself for such vain thoughts, was she really thinking about her hair when there were more important things at hand?

"Hey," she looked up, somewhat startled when his hand landed on her fingers of her injured left hand. "You okay?"

"Oh, uh, yes," she nodded then frowned, realizing how unconvincing she sounded even to herself. She smiled with just the hint of bitterness, "I'm fine…sorry. Just still a bit out of sorts."

"Understandable," he said, taking his seat beside the bed though his hand remained on her forearm. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Mhm," she nodded, "How long have you been here?"

"Not long," he shrugged, slipping his palm over the hardened cast covering the back of her hand, slipping his fingers through the space between hers. "Ran into Daniel and he told me you were catching up with your nephew so we went down for some coffee instead."

"Was Daniel being obnoxious?" she sighed, watching their fingers on the white sheets of the bed.

"Nah, he was fine," he grinned a little, "He just likes winding you up."

"Yes, he does," she nodded. "I'm sorry if he bothers you."

"He doesn't," Kurt said, meaning it. "He's a good guy."

"Yes, he is," she nodded, "Dan has his moments, it's just that sometimes…he gets in trouble."

"Sounds like a story."

Diane shrugged, "Nothing worth telling. Typical things you'd expect from a thrill seeking narcissist."

"Thrill seeking narcissist?" he raised his eyebrows.

She smiled, "Among other things, but what can I do? It's one of those…he ain't heavy, he's my brother things."

Kurt chuckled, "Sounds about right." He tore his eyes away from their entwined fingers and looked at her, "Are you sure you're okay?"

She smiled, looking away from him before shaking her head, "I'm fine."

"It's just…"

Diane turned back to him, "Just what?"

He shrugged one shoulder, "You look…_tired_?"

"Oh, wow, is that your subtle way of saying I look bad?"

He shook his head, "I'm gonna shoot for corny here and say you can't _ever _look bad. I mean that."

"If you meant that, you wouldn't have been inclined to add _I mean that_," she smirked.

"You really can't help yourself, can you, lawyer?" he said though the smile on his face obviously told her he was kidding. "Gotta argue 'bout anything and everything."

"How else am I going to get paid?" she played along.

He smiled, "I was serious when I asked, you know…are you okay? Did you sleep?"

Diane fought the urge to roll her eyes, "I did. I slept fine. Maybe they slipped me a drug for that."

He stared at her for a moment in that way that always made her feel just a little bit more self-conscious. On a normal day, she wouldn't let it bother her too much, but today? It was hell of a lot uncomfortable and it unnerved her. She _knew _she looked bad, knew she needed to get properly clean, despite what he said. She wasn't entirely too up to being looked at like a bug under a microscope at the moment.

Diane shifted slightly on the bed, looking away from him.

"Stop it," she muttered, slipping her hand away from him and crossing her arms over her chest, subconsciously making an effort to protect herself from an uncomfortable situation.

"Sorry," he said, pulling his hand back from the bed. "Have you eaten?"

"Mhm," she nodded a little though she still refused to look at him.

"Look, I didn't mean to pry," he said quietly, "Or make you uncomfortable, but I really don't know what to do right now, okay? I've been a little busy being glad you're okay, now all I wanna do is make sure you stay that way…you can accuse me of caring too much and I'm sorry if that bugs you, but I can't help it."

Hearing those words, Diane had to frown again, not because of what he was saying, but rather how they were making her feel about herself. She felt like an utter bitch then, taking out her frustration on such a kind man who really was just trying to make sure she was okay. She couldn't fault him for that, even if it was something she wasn't used to and didn't want to get used to.

"I can go, if that'll make you feel better," he added after a moment and this time she looked at him. He looked serious, but at the same time wounded, which of course just doubled the festering self-loathing that had just been compounded by her guilt. Now she felt like an ever bigger bitch.

She sighed, "I'm sorry," she said, reaching for his hand and letting her fingers ghost over his knuckles, hovering for a moment before really touching him.

They hadn't seen each other in months and she was surprised at how comfortable they seemed when it came to touching each other. It was out of character, for her at least, because she'd never really felt comfortable around a near stranger like this.

Diane barely knew him and yet, the thought of him leaving again made her feel things she wouldn't normally feel for someone she wasn't entirely close to. She didn't even know his favorite color or if he liked any sport and yet she couldn't _just _let him walk away again.

"I'm just a little on edge," she shrugged a little then suddenly regretted it when she felt a slight pang radiating from _somewhere _in her body. She winced, unable to stop the expression from emerging on her face.

"What?" he asked, detecting the look of pain surprisingly easily, but she wasn't sure if that should surprise her. "Are you in pain? Should I call someone?"

She shook her head, "No, I'm fine…"

"Are you sure?"

Diane couldn't help but smile. The man was a worrywart, "Yes, yes…settle down, cowboy. No need to call the cavalry."

"Are you sure?" he said though he managed a small smile—if she was willing to joke already, that was a good sign. "'Cause I can call them easy. I'm good at that."

"I bet you are," she said, leaning her head back on the bed. "I'm sorry...I just really hate being here."

"Well, I can't help you there," he said, "_But _I can stick around. It might get a little boring, but we can get bored together…I'll even try and get you some contraband and stuff."

"Contraband?" she smiled, eyes set alight at the prospect. "Like what?"

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the bed and folding one arm over the other, "You tell me."

Diane smiled mischievously, the possibilities zooming in and out of her head coming in faster than the speed of light, her mind jumping from one thing to another. Oh, there were so many possibilities.

She was smiling in such a way that told Kurt McVeigh enough to make him wonder if perhaps he was going to regret saying those words by the end of the day. Maybe even sooner than that.

"Really?" her smile grew bigger and right then, he realized something that made him smile too.

He didn't really mind at all.

-o0o-

"Hey."

Alicia leaned forward on her desk, watching the people passing her office. She swallowed first, fiddling with the pen in her hand as she let out an even, "Hello, Peter."

"Eli just came by," her husband's voice filtered through the line. "I heard about Diane…you okay?"

"Yeah," she said, nodding a little even if he couldn't see her.

"I tried to call yesterday, but I couldn't get to the phone in time," she heard just a hint of frustration in her voice. "But Eli came by and we got to talk."

"That's okay," she replied, staring at the pen as she twirled it in place over the legal pad full of notes, "We were pretty busy yesterday. They delegated Diane's current cases and I got one."

"Oh? Anything interesting?"

"Not really," she shrugged, "Just a small police dispute."

"Okay," she could imagine him nodding at the other end of the line, "How are the kids?"

"They're good," she smiled a little, "Although Grace might just start asking for a dog again."

"Uh-oh, why?"

She let out a small chuckle, "I got saddled with Diane's dog. Nobody was available to take it and I got offered a deal for it…so I took him in. He's pretty okay, he was hurt but Grace seemed to be doing a good job taking care of him…"

"Should I start preparing my arguments?" she _felt _him smile, "It'll be easier now since we're in an apartment in the city…no yards."

Alicia smiled, "We'll see. She's pretty sure she can take care of Justice—"

"Justice? That's the name of the dog?"

"Yes," she smiled wider when she heard him laugh on the other end.

"Leave it to Diane Lockhart to name a dog Justice," his voice floated through with his laughter.

"I know…" Alicia smiled with her reply.

He was still chuckling when he went on, "Oh, and I have good news. Eli said something about finding something new. He was kind of excited about something, but he said he's not entirely sure about it but he'll take care of it as soon as possible."

"This is good news? Your political strategist is excited?"

"You didn't see him," Peter said, "He was _ecstatic_, completely excited, he's pretty sure it can help me."

"Should I be worried?" she was never really sure with Eli Gold, especially after today's visit.

"No, but it's gotta be something big," Peter said, "I trust him."

Alicia paused, thinking for a moment before shaking her head at herself, "You know what?"

"What?"

"I kind of do too…"

"That's good to know," Peter chuckled, "So, how's mom taking the dog thing?"

Alicia could help but laugh, unable to help herself as she recalled the look on her mother-in-law's face when she first saw Justice. The imagery was so perfect, she was sure she would stow it away in her memory for a long time. Nothing was more comical than seeing Jackie Florrick be so flabbergasted like that.

The husband and wife spent the next few minutes discussing things from home, relishing in the connection the brief phone call gave them. They were far from being healed, but they were getting there, _somehow_.

And for now, that was enough.

-o0o0o0o0o0o-

Okay, so it took Peter a while to come…but he's here. And same with Eli. Now I am scared shitless that I may have screwed up somewhere in writing these two…I wouldn't be surprised if I did though…I just realized Eli is as hard to write as Kalinda. Yeah…I suck.

I could hate them both…I really could.

*not sure if anyone would care, but there are links in my profile at the moment—to my LiveJournal account where there are stories posted there that aren't or won't be posted here _and _as well as a link to this forum for Christine Baranski/Diane Lockhart fans.

**BIG thank you to Ellie for pointing out my typos! Thank you, El! hugs!


	17. Chapter 17: Unrest

**Blackout  
**by: raileht  
**  
****Summary:** It was over. The fight in her was almost completely out and she was nearing total exhaustion. She was about to die.  
**Disclaimer: **The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.  
**Rating: **T, to be safe

**Chapter Title taken from:  
**Siouxsie and the Banshees, _This Unrest_

-o0oo0oo0o-

**Chapter ****Seventeen: Unrest  
**

The body was face down on the dirty hardwood floors.

Raven black hair in a neat bun that had come a little undone, unmoving limbs slack and seeming almost lifeless, the flawless tan skin marked by an angry bruise on one visible cheek. At first glance, the assumption of something bad having taken place wouldn't be wrong as the body lay amidst the mess that was supposed to be an abandoned office space.

And one would wonder what a body would even be doing there in the first place.

Stepping further into the room until he was next to the unconscious form, he flipped it gently, mindful of his actions and let out a breath when the face came into full view. She was lovely, this one, and it was a damned shame it had come to this. He sighed, reaching for his phone and at the same time for the woman's slender neck, catching it barely underneath the collar but enough to let two fingers slip to check for a pulse.

He hadn't been paying attention, not really when he was letting himself guide his hand through touching as he tried to construct the conversation he was about to have over the phone so he failed to notice that as soon as he came close enough to touch the woman's skin, a hand shot out from nowhere, curling around his wrist in an impossibly tight grip that easily cut off his circulation. He let out a surprised squawk and tried to shake his hand free only to have it curl around tighter, nails digging into his skin despite the fact they weren't all that sharp to begin with.

When he moved his other hand to try and pry the fingers off, the other hand shot out, grabbing his other wrist mid-air and twisted easily, sending his phone flying to the air and landing in a crash and him sprawling on the ground on his back, the rest of his body following. Her previously unconscious body followed fluidly, not missing a beat as she rolled easily, the momentum enough to cause him to lose even more of his balance and he wobbled, giving her enough advantage to use him as support to flip herself over.

Dark eyes blazing with bottled rage and the bruise on her cheek growing into an angrier red, Kalinda Sharma threw her weight on the man and knocked him fully over. He tried to speak but she took him by surprise yet again, delivering an impossibly quick swipe across his jaw, effectively transforming whatever he was about to say into a pained cry and freed one wrist but only to have his body flying again, pushing him hard and making him land face down on the filthy ground.

"Wait—" he started, only to be cut off as she threw one leg over his body, straddling him until both knees were braced on the floor beneath them, her hands making a grab for his wrists and pulled them back tightly and impossibly high. Mercilessly, she tugged, eliciting another painful yowl from the man as she pushed her weight on to him, effectively keeping him on the ground even as he tried to buck her off of him.

"Hey! Get—_fuck_!" he grunted, but it was cut off again when she pulled his arms again, higher and even more painful in an angle that threatened to make both of his arms pop out of their sockets. She drove one knee in the middle of his back, nearly cutting off his air and dug in deeply.

"Who sent you?" she growled, leaning down next to his ear to make sure he heard her over his cries while maintaining the position they were in. She hadn't raised her voice, but it didn't diminish the effect of the words she'd spoken. She wasn't up for fucking around, that much was clear.

"Wh—goddamn it, get off me! Ow! Sonofabitch!" he screamed, his legs flailing behind him as the knee against his back drove deeper, increasing the pain. He tried to buck her off once more, but even with her deceptive size, she was stronger than he could have expected as she continued to pin him easily, keeping her weight and force on him, driving him face down deeper into the hard ground.

She pinned both wrists with one hand, grabbing the back of his head by the hair and pressed his face into the floor, gritting her teeth hard enough to make the bruise on her cheek throb, "Answer me."

"Aw, fuck!" he yelled as soon as she let his head go, his wrists fighting to get free again only to have her hand return to its former position, keeping his wrists in place while applying even more pressure into his back. "I will if you just get the _fuck _off me! Get off me! Crazy _bitch_!"

"Who. Sent. You?"

"Your—" he hissed, swearing once more before continuing. "—_boss_ sent me!"

"Boss?" she asked, but she in no way decreased or loosened in any of the things she was applying on his body. "Who sent you?"

"Will—Will Gardner!" he growled, "Now get the hell off me!"

"I don't believe you," her knee dug in a painful jab against his back, pushing her full weight enough to make him wonder if she really was about to break something that was going to hurt like a bitch then felt the pressure decrease slightly to let him speak properly. She wanted answers before she killed him.

_Crazy fucking bitch—Will Gardner was a fucking dead man._

"He sent me!" he gasped, "I've been on the job since the thing went down with Diane Lockhart! I'm sure he sent you out too, but he's got all hands on deck here!" He sucked in a breath but not easily, he wouldn't be surprised if a vein popped in his head and killed him, which would really be preferable compared to the current position he was in. "You haven't checked in and he was wondering where you were, said I should check on you!"

"Proof."

"The name's Gates! Tie me up or knock me unconscious then call you boss!" he growled, "Just get the hell off me before you break something!"

"How did you find me?" she snarled, keeping her hold on him as he continued to struggle.

"Tracked down your car," he gritted out, "City surveillance…it's not exactly hard! Sonofabitch! Get the hell off me, you whackjob!"

Gritting her teeth one more time, Kalinda removed one hand from her grip on him again, this time raising it high in the air before slamming it against the back of his neck. He groaned once more but immediately, his struggling ceased and his body fell slack against the floors. She waited, breathing hard and unwilling to loosen her grip yet, waiting for a twitch or a sign of consciousness, unwilling to be fooled again.

When nothing came, she slowly let go, waiting once more before actually deciding it was safe. Satisfied she wasn't about to be surprised again, she pushed off his body, hissing a little when she finally felt the pain radiating from her right rib where she could remember being kicked. The pain was there, angry and raw, letting its presence be known, angry most especially because of the stunt she'd just pulled. She could practically feel the forming bruise under her skin, spreading and radiating in ways that was all too familiar.

Still on her knees, she searched his pockets and found a gun and his wallet, flipping it open to a driver's license before standing up, bending forward a little to decrease the throbbing pain on her torso. She glared at the body again, pulling out her phone and made a call.

The other line picked up, "Will? It's me…yeah, still looking…listen, do you know a man named Joshua Gates?...Oh…right…nothing, actually, I just met him," she glanced down at the body, rolling her eyes slightly. "Yeah…maybe. Listen, I'll check in later…I hadn't realized it's been too long…I know, thanks…yeah. Later."

Slipping her phone back in her pocket, she looked at the body of Joshua Gates again, letting the tip of her boot nudge his left foot lightly, noting the scruffy black working boots he wore. She waited for movement, for any sign he was coming to before trying again and still got nothing.

Letting out a frustrated breath, she came closer to the body, kicking him on the thigh hard enough to jostle him and still got the same negative response. She scowled, tempted to just outright kick him this time then decided against it. She could kick him all she wanted, he wasn't going to come easily.

Kalinda stood there, debating whether or not to leave him there. She'd just found out through Will she had lost quite some time already and she couldn't afford to waste anymore, considering she still had things to track down _and _a friend to visit in payment for her current detour. He'd sent her because he'd been wondering where she was and that did nothing to improve her dark mood.

She hated being bested and she had been, whoever had been laying in wait for her and she was going to take care of that matter too. She looked around, deciding to give the place a look anyway, just in case she might have an answer as to who'd been there. She'd been led there, deliberately and she was going to find out—this was one score that needed to be settled, quickly.

Glancing at the body again, she rolled her eyes, wondering if he'd be awake by the time she would be done with the room. If he wasn't, then tough because she was leaving his ass behind so maybe that would teach him to sneak up on a body like that. She gave him one more look of disdain before heading to one corner of the room, leaving Josh Gates in the middle, his things tossed beside his body and promptly ignored him as she set off with her search.

For the first time, Kalinda found herself wishing she hadn't hit too hard.

-o0o-

"Uh-oh."

Annie looked up from her desk, catching Kevin as he exited their boss' main office, his phone in hand and a frown creasing his pale features. She grinned, pen in hand and asked, "Another one?"

"I really think she does it just to test me," he said, placing a stack of folders on the corner of her desk and slipping his phone back in his pocket, "She wants me to head on to Mrs. Florrick's office now to inquire about the Erica Howard case."

She nodded, "She just wants to be kept up to date on what's happening. He's an important client and I'm sure with Mrs. Florrick's plate and the elusive presence of the client itself, she doesn't have much to update yet so she's holding off."

Kevin nodded, "Most likely, but what difference does it make if I call her instead of Mrs. Florrick doing it when she's ready?"

"She's just restless," the brunette shrugged, "You have the Muzio files?"

"Right here," he patted the stack of folders, "She wants them on Mr. Cain's desk, said he was going to need them for prep work."

Annie smiled, "Better get to it then, but get to Mrs. Florrick first. Mr. Cain is still out with Mr. Whitmore. He won't get to those files until the afternoon and I'm _sure _he's scheduled to call Miss Lockhart at the end of the day already so, you should be safe."

Kevin gave a grateful smile, pushing his nerd chic glasses back up his nose. "Thanks. I was beginning to wonder if I was going to have to cut myself in two."

She chuckled, "I'm a little surprised. You've worked with her a few times already, you should be used to this by now."

"I was," he said, defending himself a little. "I mean, I thought I was and yes, I'd gotten my sea legs already, working for Miss Lockhart, but then…you've seen her."

A dark cloud passed over the woman's features, "Yes, I know. It's…it can be shocking at first."

"That's an understatement," he muttered, "But you saw her, right? You'd think nothing happened, like, the bruises and everything were just props and makeup. She's…completely normal."

She nodded, "Of course. She wouldn't let this take her down."

Kevin nodded, "It's kind of…scary and…well, it's just scary and even more intimidating. As if she doesn't make me feel..."

"Emasculated?" a voice suddenly joined in on the conversation and the two turned to find Will Gardner's blonde assistant coming into their area.

"Kate," Annie said in a slight reprimand though the smile remained on her face. "Stop, he's having enough for today without you piling on."

"Oh, get your geek on, Kev!" Kate suddenly said as she joined the conversation, slipping behind her desk with a smile on her face. The attractive blonde was smiling at the two, her own stack of files in hand. "You two are just cute, you know that?"

Kevin gave her a slight frown but decided to stay quiet—he'd grown used to the slightly peppy blonde's ways. It wasn't much different from the girls in high school only she actually had working brain cells, which made up for the reminder. She wasn't bad, not really and Kevin actually sort of liked her, although that was mostly Annie's doing.

"What now?" the brunette asked, grinning.

"Come on," Kate said, brushing her hair back as she flipped a folder open, resting a hip against the front of her desk, "It's not like you didn't expect she'd be back to work the moment she wakes up. It's just how Diane Lockhart is. I mean, you don't get to the top just with a pretty smile and those gorgeous legs, you know."

She looked up from the file with a wicked smile on her face that was so clearly aimed at the only male in the area, "Which you have, of course, noticed, despite your geek chic-ness."

Kevin's eyes widened slightly behind his rimless glasses, "Wh-what are you talking about? I mean, I didn't look. Or, you know, erm, noticed."

Kate gave the man a pointed look who immediately began shaking his head, "What? I didn't-I mean, I didn't notice them!"

The two women laughed together as they watched the man stammer and fidget slightly, "Please, Kevin, if _we _women noticed, no way in hell you wouldn't. Even gay men notice. Those legs could kill."

Annie nodded, "Agreed."

Kate let out a small laugh, "I mean, god, Kev, we've established you're male, don't worry about it. Plus, you'd have to be dead and nine-feet under not to notice. It's _okay_, you know?" She shrugged, "I mean, it's not like _you'll _be in danger of getting slapped with a sexual harassment suit…as is the few benefits of being on the lower portion of the totem pole."

"Now don't go giving him ideas," Annie said, teasingly as she joined in.

Kevin shot the two a look, "You two like ganging up on me. Seriously, I wouldn't look. I mean, she's my boss for god's sake."

"Yeah, and I'm totally blind to how my boss looks good," Kate said airily, "Up to the point that I totally missed him being listed as one of the most eligible bachelors of the city."

Annie nodded almost sagely, "Nothing wrong with looking."

Kate wiggled her eyebrows, "Yes, see? Just like Annie has been looking _and _liking that cute detective that came by the office."

The brunette rolled her eyes, "Okay, I think that's cue for us to go back to work."

Cackles erupted from the blonde, "Denial. Though god knows why, he _was _hot. What was his name again? Clayton? Car-something?…Annie?"

"It was Clancy," Annie answered offhandedly, rolling her eyes as her friend's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, "Shut up."

"I said nothing."

"Of course you didn't."

Kevin shook his head, taking the folders from the desk again, "You know what? You two gossip. It's amazing how any work gets done. I'll drop by Mrs. Florrick's office and head on straight to Mr. Cain's."

"Oh, such a happy little worker," Kate teased then added, "Alicia Florrick has nice legs too, you know."

"Oh, crap, you gotta be kidding me," Kevin muttered, shaking his head as he headed off, shooting the other two women a dirty look as he headed out, making them both erupt in peals of laughter again. "Later, okay? You two are worst than teenagers. What next, drooling?"

"We have buckets at the ready," Kate called out.

"It's like appreciating fine art—a _must,_" Annie added playfully, her attention and slowly returning focus drifting back to her work as she laughed.

Kevin waved goodbye, folders in one hand and shaking his head as he went, as if the women's behavior truly bothered him, but it was all in play. He liked playing along with the two. Annie and Kate always enjoyed messing around with him, which was nice. It helped the time go faster anyway.

To them, it was always such fun teasing the lovable pseudo-geek that was Kevin Cavanaugh.

And he didn't mind at all.

-o0o-

"I'll call you later, okay? I love you. Bye."

A smiling Nicholas turned only to find himself face to face with his grinning father. His eyes widened for a moment before he managed to compose himself, putting an easy grin on his face and stuffing his phone back in his pocket, "Oh, hey dad. Aunt Danni kick you out?"

"Yes, she wanted to welcome her lover properly," he shrugged then tilted his head to the side, leaning his shoulder against the wall, hands in his pocket and a very interested look on his face. "So…you have a girlfriend, my boy?"

Nicholas hesitated before nodding, slowly, deciding there was no use keeping secrets from his father knowing he wouldn't shut up until he found out anyway."Yeah. Her name is Melissa. She's in her second year."

"Oh," Daniel nodded, "Been together long?"

"A few months," Nicholas shrugged.

Daniel nodded, "So…I'm guessing your aunt doesn't know about her."

His son cleared his throat a little, "…not yet, no. But I'll tell her about Liss soon. I was planning on taking her during my next visit…Thanksgiving maybe."

"Ah, not bad," Nicholas nodded, "And since your aunt doesn't know about her, I'm betting your mother doesn't either, huh?"

He nodded, "Well, not officially. She's met Liss before…she's friends with Liss's mom."

"Really? Then what a small world," Daniel grinned.

"Actually, I met her through mom too," Nicholas shrugged, "I was in New York and Liss and her mom were there in the same restaurant, but that was a year and a half ago. We just bumped into each other in school."

"Nice," Daniel nodded, "So what's wrong with her?"

"What are you talking about?"

Daniel shrugged one shoulder, "I mean, you're already saying you love her, your mother knows her, you're obviously in love. By now, you should have already at least told your aunt about her but you haven't. You don't keep many things from your aunt unless you're worried she might disapprove. So I'm wondering, what's wrong with this Melissa?

Nicholas shrugged, "Nothing. There just hasn't been time to tell her…I mean, I'm in my final year, I'm trying to decide what to do with the rest of my life and-and Liss…" he looked up, as if suddenly realizing who he was talking to and what he was saying. He flashed a grin at his father, "I mean, you know…she's a great girl, that's all. She's amazing. I just haven't had time. And Aunt Danni's been busy too."

Daniel stared at his son for a moment before straightening up, flashing him a smile before reaching forward to clap him on the shoulder with a light chuckle. "You're alright, son."

"What?" Nicholas asked, looking confused for a moment.

"Nothing," his father said, then stopped when this time, his phone began to ring. He glanced at the screen of his phone, his eyebrows jumping up then he looked at his son, "Hey, your aunt's in there with Mr. McVeigh and don't worry, they're not doing anything that will…uh, scar you or anything so, go right ahead, okay?"

"Where're you going?" Nicholas asked, even more confused than before. He was used to having a father that wasn't necessarily normal, but even this sudden shift was a little off to him.

"I have to take this and, you know, I think I've ruffled your Aunt Danni enough so I'm going to take this here, okay?" Daniel said easily, waving his phone at him as it rang. "It's just work stuff, you know."

"Work stuff? Since when?"

He rolled his eyes, "They do check in once in a while, you know, Nicky?"

Nicholas shook his head, "Okay, but I swear, dad, if you tell mom—"

"You think I've finally lost it?" Daniel interjected with a snort, stopping to glance at his phone when it stopped ringing. "Oh, damn."

"—or Aunt Danni, I swear," Nicholas continued then paused, thinking for a moment before snapping his fingers, "I swear I will call Aunt Charlie and tell her _you _were the one reason why Paula left her."

"That wasn't exactly—"

"You told Paula Aunt Charlie was acting like the way she did when she cheated on you with my nanny," Nicholas pointed out.

"Okay, but—"

"She _really _liked Paula. Imagine if she knew…and imagine if Aunt Charlie tells Aunt Danni _and_ mom," he raised his eyebrows at his father, "Imagine _that_ little scenario. Mom doesn't care all that much about Aunt Charlie _but _she'd do anything to find a reason to punish you."

"She said no to alimony, but my Jaguar…" Daniel paused, raising his hands up in mock surrender, "Fine, fine, lawyer-boy. Fine, but shame on you—blackmailing your own father."

"I learned from the best," Nicholas smirked.

"Yeah, yeah," Daniel said with a grin, clapping his son on the shoulder again. "Now, go and be not yourself and _try _not to worry. My mouth is shut and my silence bought…go and sin no more." He waggled his eyebrows, "Or more, whichever way you prefer."

"Oh, god, dad," Nicholas waved his hand at his father, "Seriously though—you do not _even_ hint at _anyone_ you know _anything_, okay? You know _nothing_, dad, okay? No-_thing_."

Daniel rolled his eyes, "Wanna draw up some papers for me to sign?"

"I just might," Nicholas said, "But I warned you. And you know what? Just to be absolutely sure? I'm extending this. You tell anyone about me having a girlfriend or even fooling around to annoy me, I will _sing_ like a canary about everything dad, _everything_. Including the time when you called me all the way from Tijuana."

"That was a onetime thing."

"Yes and no one will ever have to know."

Father and son stared each other down in a silent duel before Daniel finally bent his head, "Fine, fine. Not a word, oh-great-and-powerfully-manipulative son of mine."

Nicholas smiled sarcastically, "Excellent. Thanks, dad! Glad we could talk."

Daniel watched as he passed him by, this time being the receiver of the hearty clap on the shoulder, "Good talking, Nicky. And, yes, this just confirms it…you _are _a Lockhart."

"I know," Nicholas smirked, "I'm my aunt's boy."

Daniel chuckled, waiting until the door was closed before chuckling, "That you are."

He stood there, feeling a strange sensation of pride, even after his own son had just blackmailed the hell out of him into his own silence. In other families it would have been bad and frowned upon, to Daniel, it was like music to his ears. Nicholas was every bit him, every bit his wife and every bit his sister. It was a damned good combination and from where he was standing, Daniel could be so sure of one thing.

Nicholas could conquer the world if he wanted to—the boy could do _anything_.

Daniel's smile lingered until his phone began to ring again. He straightened up, making sure the guards, whom he'd forgotten were still there, were out of hearing range and walked to the end of the hall, answering his phone with a devious grin on his face, "I was wondering when you'd be calling."

"You didn't tell me you were coming, you bastard."

"My sister, what did you expect?"

"Still playing the loving brother, very cute."

"Hey, I'm being a good son," he scoffed, "And besides, I've got a son of a bitch to track down. I was just about to call you."

He heard a chuckle flow through the end of the line, "And I knew I had to call you."

"I heard about your latest…project," Daniel shook his head, "You're insane, but I don't blame you. He's a hell of a choice. If anyone's up for the job, it's you."

"Oh, such sweet words," he could imagine the smirk forming, "Same place?"

Daniel looked back down the hall to where his sister's room was, "Sure, but I'm going to have to make it late. My son's in town. And he just backed me into a corner."

"Little Nicky?"

"Not so little anymore," Daniel sighed, "Definitely not little."

"Is he handing your ass to you already?"

He smirked, "You could say that."

"Ah, definitely taking after your sister," came the drawl.

"I'm going to let that one go," he grinned. "But yes, more like my sister than I. Better that than be his mother. God love her, but…no."

Laughter echoed through the line, "If god had a sense of humor…"

"I'd still be married to my first wife," Daniel chuckled, "What about you? Your own handing your ass over to you already?"

"Been doing it since birth, Dan," he smirked, "You know that already."

He chuckled, "Thought you could use the reminder."

"But honestly, Nick has grown. Proud yet?"

"Every day."

"Just a happy little reunion then," came the dry reply though he could detect sincerity there, "Something good seems to be coming out of this."

"Silver linings and all that crap," Daniel smirked, "I'll call you later."

"Sure."

"I can't wait for you to tell me what you've been up to," he ribbed, "So much to catch up on."

"Yes, yes. Of course."

"I've got something for you," he shrugged, "It might help."

He could practically _feel _the smile spreading on that familiar face, "You don't say."

"Yeah, and you're going to want to savor it," Daniel nodded, a certain darkness passing over his features as he looked out the window he was standing next to, gazing at the bright Chicago day outside the walls of the hospital, "I'm going to expect something in return."

"You know I always deliver."

"Of course," he said slowly, "But I think this time…I'm going to need a little more."

"We'll talk."

"Tonight then."

Daniel hung up, taking a deep breath before fixing a smile on his face, letting a serene feeling wash over him as he turned back towards the hall again, phone held in hand and slipping his other hand into his pocket. He felt suddenly light, as if a weight had been pulled from his shoulders, at least a little of it.

It helped him breathe easier.

He passed by the guards as he walked past the door to his sister's hospital room, nodding a hello at them before heading down towards the elevators and pressed the button and waited.

Typing a text to his driver, Daniel stepped into the lift again, pressing for the main floor. An elderly woman stepped into the car with him and he flashed a charming smile at her, one she quite easily returned. Daniel glanced at the numbers again, letting out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

As long as tonight went well, he was sure he would have considerably less to worry about in the future.

Daniel smiled again, only this time, it wasn't as playful as the one he'd shared with his son.

This one held promise.

-o0o-

There were times when she finds herself wishing she hadn't gone back to work.

Her pen tapped along in a steady rhythm on the top of her legal pad, trying hard not to glance at her watch again. She was no bean-counter, but she was pretty sure she's had her ear pressed against the phone for the better part of seven minutes and by all counts, this should warrant her just hanging up. But of course, that was out of the choice considering she couldn't just hang up on a client, no matter how rude or inconsiderate.

Especially not this one because at the moment, she was waiting on the other end of the line for Erica Howard, waiting for who she decided to chalk off as her roommate to fetch the young woman.

Alicia shifted slightly in her seat, forcing herself to glance at the screen of her computer and was easily met by a photo of her two children, their happy smiles wide and that was enough to alleviate the tension along her shoulders. She just needed to remind herself why she was doing this, that's all and it worked.

Shaking her head slightly, she sat straighter in her seat, hoping that would keep her active enough not to actually drift off. The last thing she needed was to have a client catch her off guard and be thought of as unprofessional, no matter what the circumstances.

"Hello?"

As if someone had shoved a steel rod up her spine, the older woman jerked, her back going impossibly straighter and her eyes widening slightly before she caught herself, "Is this Erica Howard?"

"Yes, who's this?"

"I'm Alicia Florrick calling from Lockhart/Gardner," she said simply, noting that despite the picture she'd painted in her head, the _girl _on the other end of the line sounded much younger than she had anticipated. "I'm taking over your representation after—"

"Yeah, I heard," Erica said, her voice taking on a slightly different tone, "That was…shocking. Diane has been very good to me…I mean…crap, is she okay? I meant to send something but I wasn't sure how or where or…how is she?"

Alicia's eyebrows rose a little then furrowed, not failing to notice the way the previously composed woman now stuttered a little, giving her more reasons to believe that somehow, they had all missed a connection between Diane and her family. And from where she was sitting, she could definitely see the younger woman knew her boss well out of just being her lawyer.

"She's fine," she said simply, "Recovering well, actually. She's doing well."

"Oh, good," Erica breathed then let out a small laugh that sound almost nervous, "Sorry…it's just that I spoke with her yesterday and then next thing I know, I was hearing things on the news and they said she was…" she huffed a little, "Never mind. I'm sorry. Mrs. Florrick, right?"

"You can call me Alicia," she smiled a little.

"Okay," she replied, "I'm sorry…I know you've been calling and I've basically been missing you, but if you want, we can meet…I pretty much know how lawyers work and if I'm switching counsel, we better talk, right?"

Alicia nodded, relaxing a little. Despite how young she sounded, Erica obviously knew what she was doing and that helped her greatly. She hadn't expected the transition to go this smoothly. "Right. You're not due to appear until the next month so this gives us time…it's minor things, actually so this should go smoothly. If you have time this week, maybe you can come by here so we can …iron things out?"

"Sure," the younger woman replied, "I think I can be good for…tomorrow? I've got a few things to take care of today and…you know. But tomorrow, that okay?"

"Sure," Alicia nodded as she wrote notes on her pad. "You can set up a schedule with my assistant Courtney…you've spoken with her?"

"Yeah, yeah," she hummed, "She was very nice."

"That's good," Alicia nodded, "If you have questions you can contact me in this number, or, you know, if you need some assistance before tomorrow."

"Yes, of course, thank you," she let out a small laugh, "Don't worry, Alicia…I'm not like my dad. You don't have to do a dog and pony show for me." She hummed again, "If Diane trusts you enough to give you my case, that's enough for me. Not that I'd really know better, if my recent actions aren't telling enough."

Alicia couldn't help the grin, "We all do things when we're young."

"You're not old enough to say something like that, as my grandmother would tell me," Erica let out a laugh, "I'll see you tomorrow then, Alicia?"

"Yes, of course, Miss Howard."

"Erica," she snorted, "I hate being Miss Howard…it sounds so…blah."

"I think I'll use that when I get called Mrs. Florrick again," she smirked.

A laugh, "You've got a sense of humor. Bonus."

They chatted a little more, leaving out the realm of lawyer/client and talking as if they hadn't just met or she wasn't billing the girl as she would any other client. Erica hadn't seemed keen on hanging up and somehow, Alicia knew the girl was smart enough to know how the whole thing played. Not that she couldn't afford it anyway so she let her go on for a few more before they hung up.

Alicia sat back, penning her latest client into her personal copy of her schedule and glanced at a photo of her children again, this time in the separate frames she had placed on her desk. This time, the look was not for any purpose other than to smile. She didn't need the unburdening this time.

Sitting forward and giving a silent thank you for not encountering a proverbial spoiled rich brat in Erica Howard, Alicia found herself looking forward to meeting the young woman. She sounded young, but if the conversation said anything, she definitely knew beyond what her initial impression indicated. She was clever, articulate and witty, quick to easily help a conversation along.

She hadn't yet had the pleasure of actually meeting anyone from the Howard family, but Alicia was glad for this first encounter. The waiting and looking for the elusive young woman now seemed less like a hassle and a waste of time. It was rare to come across a client who would actually sincerely apologize for being hard to catch and for Alicia, this was somewhat refreshing.

At least Erica Howard was truly sincere, quite unlike clients like Colin Sweeney whose two-faced tendencies made his being sincere feel more like a snake slithering against her bare skin—cold, uncomfortable and enough to make her shudder right from her bones and compel her into the shower for at least two hours.

For once, Alicia was almost willing to think she'd caught a _normal _person for a client this time.

-o0o-

He was doing everything he can not to launch the offending piece of technology against the nearest wall

The screen of his phone showed the various reports that had been steadily arriving in the last few hours. If there was one thing he hated more than anything, it was having his plans get ruined. He glared, reading the same lines over and over again, his rage building with every repeat, his fist clenched tight against the arm of his chair. The news hadn't stopped and though they barely had anything to give, the increasing attention on the events surrounding the attack on Diane Lockhart, they came anyway and it was steadily accumulating every few hours.

Of course the intrigue was there, people were curious. Her father had been known and her family had spent a few number of decades headlining the society pages and playing key roles in the city. This wasn't part of the plan, not at all. With all this attention, it threatened everything he'd been steadily planning for all this time.

He clenched his fist tighter, his jaw setting so tight, it almost made his cheek tingle with the first signs of discomfort. Then he breathed, slowly through his nose then exhaled with the most minimal sounds.

This was not going as planned and he couldn't afford any more mistakes. This was _unacceptable_.

He glared, noting the photo next to one of the articles then scowled, jerking his seat back and pushing away, his fingers making a quick work of his keyboard and rapidly closing all the windows he had opened. He didn't need to look at any more of those, he could memorize them by now, not that it helped in anyway.

Clenching his fist in an effort to keep his control, he breathed again, an old exercise he'd been taught when he was younger. It helped clear his mind and keep himself in check while at the same time helped keep his focus sharp. His mind was already finding ways to minimize the damage of all this attention to his plans. There had to be some way, some solution to just let the whole thing die down.

He stopped, the digging of his nails against his palm easing as a small smile crept across his features. A plan had formed, before he could even conceive it fully. It was quick, easy and not hard to accomplish at all.

The focus could be shifted and if he got this right, this could fade away in two or three days _then _the pressure of it would be off. He just needed to make sure he occupied the world with something else.

He needed the attention to _die down_, needed his space to work and rework his plans. It was too easy, too simple, but he was sure it was going to work. He was smart, after all, and more than capable of seeing this through. What he was facing was a wrinkle, a hurdle and he would be _damned _if he let this go awry now.

It had been a mistake to send someone so stupid to do the previous night's job. He should have known better, especially since Mark Jackson hadn't really been anything special. He'd been too easy, too stupid and was just a downright pathetic excuse for a human being. He'd made the right choice of putting the stupid bastard out of his fucking misery. It wasn't just for the mistake, not really—he'd done the poor pathetic excuse of a man a favor. And in a way, they'd both won.

The end benefited them both, in equal measure, really. At least, from where he stood that's how things looked. Not that he cared—he hadn't got what he'd initially intended, but he wasn't about to wallow. Not when there was still so much to be done _and _plans to be altered.

He needed to make sure he could win _this _game because, small victories were one thing, the goals he had set for this whole affair was a different matter altogether. This was bigger, more important and a matter that needed to be handled delicately and in the surest of manner. He couldn't believe he'd been so stupid to hire such an oaf to do his bidding, which was a big, unforgivable stupid mistake. He should have known better because, after all, this was the most important matter in his life.

This was life or death and he would be damned if he didn't succeed.

-o0o-

"Are you kidding me?"

Diane shook her head, "No. I'm serious."

"You know when I said contraband, I meant I would be taking things _into _the hospital?"

"Yes and it was sweet…at first," she shrugged, "But then you said no to everything I said."

"You wanted coffee, you're not allowed coffee for now," she scowled, "And then you said you wanted your laptop instead. _That _is not allowed to and I don't even have to ask the doctor," she scowled again but he ignored her, "_Then_ you asked if I could get you something for work, and that's a hell no _from me_."

Diane rolled her eyes, "See? You are a _terrible_ bad influence."

"That's something I am actually glad about right now," Kurt replied easily, shaking his head at her, "Now you're asking me to do what?"

"Eat what's in _that _basket," Diane pointed at the food.

"Yes, and I still don't understand," he said. "Are you worried someone put something in it? Like tranquilizers?"

"You wish," she replied, "No, it's…well, our housekeeper sent it."

"And…?" he raised his eyebrows at her.

"And she will inspect that and if it's not finished or _at least _almost finished," she shrugged, "Well, she'll…do something, I don't know what, to make my life…miserable is too strong a word, I think."

Kurt stared at her for a moment before shaking his head again, leaning forward in his seat and placing his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands under his chin, "Is it me or does it seem like the great and powerful Diane Lockhart is afraid of her…_housekeeper_?"

"I wouldn't say afraid," she said slowly, "I just…"

He raised his eyebrows, "You're just…?"

Diane rolled her eyes again, "You know what? Forget it. I'll give it to the nurses or something. Forget it."

A grin slowly formed on his face, "You _really _are afraid of this…housekeeper." He looked amused and ready to laugh, "_You_, the woman who can stare anyone down, who'll go against a judge or take down some scumbag at any cost, _you_ are afraid of your _housekeeper_."

"It really isn't as simple as that," she said, turning her nose up, "I am _not _afraid of her. She's just…different."

"Well, that explains _everything_," he said sarcastically.

"Sarcasm, thank you," Diane said, just as sarcastically, "Not helping."

"I wasn't trying to," he shrugged, "I was trying to understand what's going on here and why you're trying to get me to finish a basket full of pastries."

"It's not just pastries."

"Okay, whatever," he shrugged, "Now, explain because the more we talk about this, the more intrigued I am and the more I want to meet this…mysterious housekeeper. She sounds very, very interesting."

"She's not, she's just—"

"The same woman who practically raised her and my dad between the ages ten and hell."

Diane and Kurt looked up and found a very amused Nicholas leaning against the wall, watching them talk. She gave her nephew a warning look before beckoning him over to her other side and Kurt nodded at him wordlessly. Nicholas smiled a little at the two before following the silent order, taking his seat and looking across at the other man.

"She's talking about Gloria," Nicholas said before anyone else could speak, "She was their nanny."

Kurt turned to Diane, grinning a little, "Your _nanny_."

"Yes," she said primly, "She was our nanny. She practically raised us, me and Dan."

"A lovely woman," Nicholas said, nodding, "But a little terrifying too." He shook his head, "Scratch that, a _lot._"

Diane smiled at Kurt, "She looked after Nicholas for a while as well. She's…well, her parenting skills are a little, ah, let's say—"

"Lovably insane," Nicholas finished eagerly.

"Nicky," came the warning tone though not quite as severe that would stop him from speaking.

"It's true," the young man nodded at Kurt, "She has interesting philosophies on child rearing…a personal study of sorts derived from—I'm guessing mainly based on my dad's old stories _and _my own personal experience—World War II, mainly from Hitler and those pals of his we call Nazis."

Diane's head snapped towards her nephew, "Nicholas…"

This time, the tone came out stronger and this time, the young man was compelled to listen and Kurt smiled at how it was all very reminiscent of a mother chastising her child but remained quiet, watching as Nicholas gave her a feeble smile and shrugged.

"Fine," Nicholas said, "Maybe not Hitler, but I can tell you that dear Gloria is quite skilled at a _lot_ of things and she isn't shy about using psychological warfare on children under the age of eight." He waved a finger, "Oh, and she's European too."

Kurt nodded, "Of course."

"Think Mary Poppins without the singing, the magic bag or the flying," Nicholas said, "Actually, no, not Mary Poppins. More…Mrs. Lovett from _Sweeney Todd_ without the cannibalistic enterprise because Gloria can pretty much cook hell and have it end up tasting like heaven."

Diane shook her head, turning to Kurt, "She's just eccentric and Nicky's just exaggerating. She's a delightful woman, very amusing…she just takes her job seriously."

"Sounds nice," Kurt said, trying to imagine what Diane must have been like under the care of a nanny. He imagined she must have been hard to look after, all headstrong and curious. Then add Daniel and he could see together, they could just as easily been little terrors. This Gloria woman already had his attention if she actually _did _wrangle the two and actually came out victorious.

"Dad says she tackled one of Aunt Danni's boyfriends in high school," Nicholas grinned, raising an eyebrow in Kurt's direction who raised both eyebrows in surprise and curiosity.

"He's kidding," Diane said dismissively, "She didn't…tackle him. She just mistook him for a-an intruder and _mistakenly_ tripped him with a broom." She turned to Nicholas, "She _did not_ tackle him."

"Yeah, just nearly beat him with a broom," Nicholas muttered.

"Operative word, nearly," Diane turned to Kurt again, "He has a little bit of his father in him…unfortunately."

"You're bound to meet her," Nicholas shrugged, "She's not here yet but she'll come…soon. I'm sure Dad's just holding her off so he can blackmail Aunt Danni into submission."

"Nicholas, I swear, you are becoming your father."

"Ouch, words hurt, take that back, please," Nicholas said with a grin.

"Does she tackle you too?" Kurt asked Diane, "Is that why you want me to finish the food?"

"No," Diane shook her head, "She…lectures and she's quite skilled when it comes to guilt trips. I mean…you know. She just has a way of getting into our heads."

Nicholas laughed a little, "And everyone knows how hard it is to get into my aunt's head. Gloria found a way in that's just impossible for everyone else." He shrugged, "That or she has something as big as a bomb that she could drop anytime that would bring my aunt's demise…"

Diane shot daggers at her nephew, but he easily ignored her and quirked a very Lockhart eyebrow at the other man in the room.

"Then if that's the case, I do want to meet her," Kurt said then turned to Diane, clearly enamored with the woman in question already, "Someone who can actually get into your head?"

Diane shook her head at Kurt and said, "And she just knows me well, that's all."

Nicholas turned to Kurt, "I'm not sure what will happen, but I can't wait for you to meet Gloria. She loves screwing with Aunt Danni's boyfriends. Even mom's too, but then she really brings them around just for that…mom _enjoys _watching Gloria do things like that."

Kurt grinned at Diane, nodding slowly, "I truly can't wait to meet her."

"Who? My mom or Gloria." Nicholas asked, not one to be excluded in this particular conversation.

"Who'll be funnier?" Kurt asked.

Nicholas thought for a moment, "To watch clawing into _you_? Definitely Gloria."

Diane turned to Kurt, "You're asking for trouble."

He ignored her and instead focused on Nicholas, "Then Gloria it is."

Nicholas shared a look with his aunt, grinning a little, "He's a little insane, isn't he?"

She sighed, shaking her head slightly, "So it seems."

The younger man rubbed his hands together, "I can hardly wait."

Kurt watched the two, admiring the way Diane was handling the young man while at the same time wondering if perhaps he'd done something he would truly regret later. He'd never quite seen Diane actually bend to someone's will, but if half of what he was hearing was true, then chances of this Gloria woman having some hold on Diane and actually doing what Nicholas was describing, then he had a feeling this was going to be an interesting meet indeed, clawing be damned.

He grinned, tilting his head to the side and wondered if this was why he hadn't met any of Diane's family before. He used to think it was him, but now, he wasn't too sure.

Diane's brother was interesting, the total opposite of her, and her relationship with her nephew made him want to see and know more about them and as for the former sister-in-law, with whom she was still obviously in good terms with, as well as her former nanny? He hadn't lied when he said he couldn't wait to meet the former and was nearly feeling the same way with the latter.

In more ways than one, Kurt was learning now that they were definitely not what he had imagined at all.

And it was actually quite funny.


	18. Chapter 18: With a Little Help

**Blackout  
**by: raileht  
**  
****Summary:** It was over. The fight in her was almost completely out and she was nearing total exhaustion. She was about to die.  
**Disclaimer:**The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.  
**Rating:**T, to be safe

**Chapter**** Title ****taken**** from:  
**The Beatles, _With__ a__ Little __Help __from__ My __Friends_

-o0oo0oo0o-

**Chapter Eighteen: With a Little Help from My Friends**

The scent of coffee filled the small space of the elevator.

And even with the lid on and tight, the seductive aroma of the brew still managed to seep its way through but even that wasn't enough to overpower the scent of her perfume. It was pleasant but tellingly exotic and said a lot about the woman who was using it. It was not anything like a flower, rather it was stronger and left an impression on whoever took a whiff of it, which wasn't hard to do, considering the air of it that surrounded its bearer.

But the scents mingled nicely, the strong scent of something pleasantly spicy and wonderful blending with the brew in the cup cradled in one pale, finely manicured hand.

Long fingers with long nails tipped in a sleek black that contrasted nicely with the smooth lily white skin didn't bear a single accessory, but the outfit that wrapped the owner in called for that, simplicity. Though even then the outfit itself was so obviously rich and immaculate, no one could ever accuse the material of being cheap or even something one would pick up at an outlet mall.

Simplicity and elegance presented this scented creature as she stood amongst strangers in the box, coffee in one hand, a designer handbag hanging from one elbow. Her outfit was the richest of cashmere and finest fabrics, all black from the top to the tailored pants that hugged long legs nicely, tucked into boots that stopped at the shapely calves. A scarf hung, hiding a slender neck and kept it warm.

The floor she had requested for in practiced evenly toned voice rang with a _ding_ and she moved just as the doors began to slide open. _Clack,__clack,__clack_ went her boots, high heeled and leather built more for beauty than comfort but if she felt uncomfortable at all, it didn't show. She took long strides, bypassing the counter where the receptionist easily spotted her, waving her off with those long fingers and proceeded on her way.

She commanded attention as she passed but didn't give any indication she noticed anyone. She looked like she belonged, striding down one hallway after another, her footfalls announcing her arrival.

The most neutral expression that bordered on boredom graced her cool features, white skin, red lips and flashing green eyes hidden behind a pair of oversized designer shades screamed that she be left alone. It would take a braver soul to approach the tall dark figure strutting—as is the only way to describe her movement—down the halls of Lockhart/Gardner.

Save for the head of dark black hair, it would have been easy to mistake the woman for the other half of the partnership of the firm basing on style and manner alone. She was shorter, but the height of her footwear _and _her attitude made up for that. The sound of her footsteps alone was enough to draw some of the people's attention in the vicinity, heads bobbing up in surprise, mistaking it for the female partner of the firm.

And it was eerie for the real Diane Lockhart was intimidating already, to add this black-clad double into the mix in the middle of whatever was going was enough to leave some of her employees even more befuddled and uneasy.

The stranger's progress continued uninterrupted until she entered the small division between the offices of the partners. Call it luck or fate, the desks of both assistants were empty and it is only until she's well inside and deep into a drawer when she draws the attention of Will Gardner and his assistant, Kate, from across the space in between.

Alarmed, Will bolted from his seat, rushing through his doors and into the office. If he noticed the curious onlookers that had been observing the closed doors of Diane Lockhart's office where the intruder was still currently rummaging through, he didn't bother. He would ask later how they could let someone so carelessly in and he would be met by a simple answer: _she__ had __a __key_.

"Excuse me?" Will all but thundered as he slipped through the doors, leaving behind Kate at her desk who had dialed for security already. The dark figure whose back was facing the doors stopped for a moment before surreptitiously slipping something into her purse before then turning to face the disgruntled lawyer.

"Why, William, is that any way to say hello?"

Will Gardner stopped, staring for a moment before breaking into a small grin, "Gwen! I didn't recognize you with the hair. What happened to the red?"

"It got old," she shrugged, "And you know how much I hate things getting old, seeing as I'm incapable of doing so. Call it envy." She gave him a lascivious smile, "Or maybe I just heard about your sudden switch to _darker _ventures…if my sources aren't wrong."

He let out a laugh, his shoulders relaxing before turning towards the door and immediately told Kate to call again and declare a false alarm. "Gwen, you haven't changed."

"Why should I, dear? I'm fabulous as I am already, why mess with perfection?" the woman smirked as she easily slipped into the seat behind the desk, making no qualms about invading certain privacies or territories as she crossed one lithe leg over the other. "How are you, darling?"

"Fine," Will shrugged, "Have you seen her?"

"Not yet," she shook her head, "She sent me here to grab something."

His eyes darkened a little, "She's—"

"Yes, yes," she waved a dismissive hand in his direction, "She warned me so don't bother giving me a speech. She just asked me to grab this," she waved a set of papers in his direction, "But you know I can't refuse her. Especially when it's naughty."

He shook his head, "Gwen…"

"William," she pouted, "You're cute, darling, but my allegiance lies with your partner. You know that."

"She needs a break."

"She needs a lot of things," she said dismissively, "But that doesn't mean she'll do anything about it." She shrugged, "Unless you force her."

"Then give me those papers," he said simply, "I can force her."

"Oh, my dear boy, how you've grown." Gwen stared at him for a moment before smiling widely then giggled, "But still, so much to learn. Points for bravery, none for…foolishness."

"You'll see," Will smirked, "It's been a while, G."

She nodded then let out a melodramatic sigh as she tossed the papers on the table, "I'll tell her I fought tooth and nail. And lost." Then her eyes brightened, "Ah! I shall tell her you had those brutish security people of yours frisk me!"

He laughed, "Yeah that might work. But tell her the truth, if you want to. I'll deal with her."

"My, my, my…" Gwen said simply as she stood, gracefully unfolding herself from the chair and walked around the table, swiping the papers and walked towards him, "I shall tell her you were most ungentlemanly, Will my darling," she cooed as she slapped the papers on his chest lightly.

"Thanks," he grinned as he took the papers from her. Then in perfect synch, leaned his head sideways and didn't protest when she placed a kiss on his cheek, her lips pressing against his skin for a moment before she pulled back with a smile.

He didn't need a mirror to see the tint of red she'd left on his skin, "Going to see her now?"

"Yes, to parade the shame of my failure," she frowned a little, "It will not be pretty."

"I can imagine," he said, feigning solemnity. "Tell her it's my fault."

"That I shall," she smirked, "Hiding behind you has worked once before…"

The corners of his lips quirked as a slight tinge of pink graced his features—Will Gardner _does __not _blush but this woman had that uncanny ability of always making him do things he otherwise would not. She was, for all Will knew too well, dangerous. "Bye, Gwen."

"Bye? So soon?" she gave him a wicked smile, "Oh, come now! We have _so __much_ catching up to do! What have you been up to? I hear there's something about that caged politician's wife you're so smitten with."

"Diane told you?"

"Darling, what makes you think she's my only source?" she rolled her eyes, "You underestimate me, you beautiful man." She smirked, "Now, tell me about your _old_ friend. I've tried to get Diane to talk but she's _so_ infuriatingly tight-lipped about it."

"Gwen…" he said slowly, "You know we don't—"

"Oh, pish!" she waved a hand at him, "I've _seen_ the woman, Will, and even in the middle of all that hell that schmuck of a pig she calls—_or__ is __it __called?__—_husband, she had that…_flair_ that could light any man's fire even then. How is she, by the way? Better, I hope, because that would mean she _might_ look better. Lovely thing." She rolled her eyes, "Would be a shame to waste such…beauty on a bastard like that."

"She's fine," he said simply, "But she's just an employee."

"Bullshit a fool, dear," she cooed, "But never I. You know better."

He smirked, "I knew I missed you for a reason."

"You miss me for _all__ sorts __of __reason_, dear," she said, the innuendo heavy in her voice. "Now, come, tell Aunt Gwinny all about your new old friend. That beautiful, tragic thing…"

Will shook his head, "I'm working. We're not talking about anyone or anything, beautiful or not. And you need to go tell Diane I'm not letting her near this office until the doctors say she's cleared."

"Such a strong, strong man," she chuckled, "I missed you too, dear."

"Good to know," he smiled as she began to move past him and towards the doors.

"I'll see you soon, William," Gwen Blackwell cooed, waving over her shoulder. "But you _will_tell me all about your new raven haired beauty soon enough. You never could say no to me."

"Good seeing you, G," he smiled absently as he checked the papers over, shaking his head when he realized it was the case he'd added onto his partner's docket as a favor. Julius should have gotten to them already, otherwise the ever resourceful Gwen wouldn't have found them.

He shook his head, glancing past the glass to catch one last glimpse of Gwen Blackwell who resumed her strut down the halls of his office. She was a character but for once, he was glad he'd managed to secure a victory over the fierce woman. She'd always been so good at working him, he might as well try and even the scales as much as he possibly could.

Looking around the office once, Will moved towards the door again, closing and locking them behind him and made a mental note to leave strict instructions that nobody be let in without his clearance next time. He hadn't taken away Gwen's key, knowing she wouldn't surrender them but he would make sure Diane wouldn't be able to use her again. He knew her well enough to give this kind of thing a try again.

It was by sheer luck, he decided, that he'd managed to catch Gwen in the first place—the sneak, aiding and abetting Diane Lockhart in her most stubborn moments. Those two were worse than Thelma and Louise, murder and all.

On the other side of the building, as she once again rode the elevator though this time down to the ground floor and while still armed with a coffee cup and her purse, Gwen Blackwell smiled wickedly to herself.

Her purse, as it was, was a lot heavier than when she had last exited that box.

And _that_ was victory.

-o0o-

Kalinda liked to watch.

Among other things, of course, but she did a lot of watching both in _and_ out of work so standing by the corner in another part of the city, her SUV parked in the alley behind her, she was in her element. Sure her head still throbbed and she was sure there was a cut somewhere on her face—the bastard will pay for that too—and she had enough silent rage building up to drive a bat through every piece of equipment and vehicle belonging to him she could reach, but she won't.

This particular act deserved another level of finesse, something that required less expression of rage and more on practice of elegance.

So she stood there, watching from a corner, hidden a little off in the shadows where her clothes blended her in quite nicely. She knew they were on their way since the police scanners had been buzzing. It took two more checks on her watch and a serene smile before everything fell into place.

_Five, four, three, two…_

Not too far away, white cars with blue and red lights came zipping in. They'd been cautioned about using their sirens so they crept in, hurried but with the miniscule of fanfares. She watched, dark piercing eyes catching sight of one, two, three until she didn't bother counting anymore the number of uniform storming a building apartment, modest, sleek and nondescript where she was sure she would later find people disbelieving that an arrest such as that could ever take place in such a good neighborhood.

It took less than ten minutes before the uniforms were spilling out, bypassing the others who were also coming in, dragging a squirming body, cuffed at the wrists. He fought like a madman, dressed in his white button down and jeans, his outfit more than enough to make him fit into the role he played as the harmless, clean-cut, single computer whiz who was good with the kids in the neighborhood. He screamed for his lawyer, as far as she could hear, and demanded that he hadn't done anything.

Of course she knew better and so did the police—she had told them where and when to look, even going as far as dropping an envelope of instructions on De Luca's desk to forward to his pals—so she was more than sure that no matter how many lawyers he brought in, he was looking at ten to fifteen years.

Her watching was interrupted by her phone, buzzing quietly in the small of her back and she reached it easily, checking the message that had just come—

_Got him. Thanks for the tip, K. Been trying to nail this guy. Owe you. –Duncan_

Glancing up at the bastard who had the gall to betray her being shoved into the police car with a feral look on his face, she smiled, wishing she could at least wave goodbye but decided not to. A victory as elegant as this shouldn't be marred by gloating so instead, she turned away and headed back to her own vehicle. She had work to do anyway and this detour was more for herself than anything.

Slipping into the driver's seat, Kalinda started the engine and decided her next destination, slipping on her sunglasses as her large SUV made its way out of the alley and into the streets once more. She headed uptown, intent on getting back to work and mentally calculated just how long it would take for the idiot to figure out he had pissed off the wrong person this time.

He'd been eluding the authorities for months and she was pretty sure with a man like Steve Duncan heading the investigation he wasn't likely to catch any breaks. The man was a good cop, honest and clean as they come, but everyone knew of his temper as well. It was legendary and it tended to piss off lawyers, but it worked for him and department anyway.

Right then she decided have to give him a visit soon, wondering exactly just how many 'bumps' he would have behind the glass. She already had her payback, but that didn't answer the questions he had left hanging for her. He wasn't known for unwarranted attacks and she was pretty sure that if he was, she would be first on his list. There was a reason, there had to be. She wanted to know what.

Still, she was glad she'd accomplished this particular task with less than three phone calls. By a stretch, that wasn't as impressive as one would think, but she could admit internally that she hadn't put as much effort as normal—he was too predictable, she knew she would get him either way.

Clutching the wheel with both hands, the corners of the mysterious woman's lips curled up in the barest hint of a smile.

-o0o-

"What are you doing here?"

He looked up then shook his head, "How'd you find me?"

"I got people," he shrugged, "They told me you left the hospital. I was surprised. And curious."

"Don't you have work to do?"

"I'm on a break," he shrugged, "Plus I had to take a walk…I got into it with a few people. Not my best moment, as usual, but I ain't nobody's bitch."

He raised an eyebrow, "Someone leaning on you again?"

Tony De Luca nodded, "Lotsa someones and it pissed me off. Some evidence had to go back in for retesting for no reason except someone's got his tail between his legs. That's not my problem—they screw with my investigation, I cut those damned tails off."

Kurt shook his head, "Interesting. You haven't had this kind of tantrum in a long time."

"They just forgot how I roll, probably," the other man muttered, "It's funny what they let me get away with."

"They hate you for that, I'm sure," Kurt shrugged, "But you get the job done so they live with it."

"So what exactly are you doing here?" De Luca looked around, sensing the calm of the empty park, "A bit clichéd isn't it?"

"Least I'm not feeding pigeons," he muttered, "Who cares? I need to think. Need somewhere quiet."

"You left her alone?"

He gave his friend a look that clearly questioned his IQ level, "Her nephew's with her. They need time to catch up and all that. Good kid."

"Oho," the detective chuckled, "Someone's met the family. How was it? I've heard stories."

"It was fine," he said, "Daniel Lockhart…different than what I would have imagined. His son's something too."

"Yeah," De Luca nodded, "Kid with a good future ahead."

"How do you know that? Hell, how do you know so much about her family?"

"Public interest?" De Luca tried, "Maybe I'm turning into a biddy who likes gossip?"

"Bull," the ballistics expert replied.

"Let's just say Daniel Lockhart has some interesting friends," De Luca said, "Always been an interesting kid. He's got his own history, a few troubles here and there, nothing outstanding, but Daniel's got friends…big names here and across the Atlantic."

"What exactly does he do?"

"Things," De Luca shrugged, "He owns a business in New York, but scuttlebutt is that he's a financier of sorts. Usually for international companies, running a give and take thing and it pays well enough that he can just skip one section of the globe to another." He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, "Basically it's really just between him and the IRS."

"Any reason why he seems to avoid Chicago?"

De Luca thought for a moment, "Be in this job long enough, you hear things."

"I know. Hear anything?"

"Nothing much," he answered, "I mean, he pretty much kept to the straight and narrow when he grew up. His sister can control him but there isn't much to control these days. What do you think of him?"

Kurt shrugged, "Seems like a good guy. Doesn't have many problems, I think, except maybe his ex-wife. He's distant with his son but they have Diane to link them. Why are we talking about Daniel?"

"Told you, I hear things," De Luca said simply, "You know I like to listen."

"Don't be so damn cryptic."

"I'm just passing time."

"Since when do you pass time on an active case? Especially with suits crawling up your ass?"

De Luca grinned, "I'm an old man. I need my nap."

"Who naps in a park?"

"Guys like me," De Luca grinned, "And girls like her."

Kurt looked up, seeing a familiar figure walk up towards them and he turned towards De Luca. "What the hell is going on here?"

"I came here to have you killed," De Luca said then burst out laughing, "Just kidding. She's here to meet me and from what I figure, you haven't been formally introduced."

The woman walked closer.

"And since I know you're too chicken shit to actually do it yourself," the old detective shrugged, "Thought I'd do the honors. We have business and really, it's killing two birds with one stone."

Kurt stared at him for a moment before nodding, "What was really that thing about Daniel?"

"You like him?"

"He's a good guy, I think," Kurt said simply, "I barely know the man but he seems to care genuinely."

"That's all I was thinking about," De Luca said. "Really though, this is what I came for. I knew where to find you, she's just coming back from nailing someone's ass into the wall…thought you two might as well meet, considering you'll be traveling the same circles soon enough."

"What's up, Tony?"

Both men looked up from the bench they were occupying and found Kalinda Sharma standing in front of them, hands in her pocket and a perfectly neutral look on her face.

"Get that look off your face, K," De Luca said and shook his head as Kurt stood up, offering his seat to the woman who shook her head wordlessly and remained standing. "He's a friendly and don't you go bullshiting me pretending you don't know him."

"Kurt McVeigh," she said simply.

"Miss Sharma," was all he said as De Luca stood as well.

"Kalinda," she said in an almost clipped tone but he couldn't be sure. The woman was different, more different than he'd seen around. She was everything one would imagine as a femme fatale in a movie, complete with those dark eyes, that mysterious aura and a face that didn't give a damn.

"Yeah, she doesn't go for the chivalry thing," De Luca waved his hand absently, "She'd cut your balls off."

"Tony," was all the woman said. "What's up?"

"Heard your business with Duncan," De Luca grunted, "You got anything for me?"

"Duncan took care of it," she shrugged, "That deal's done."

"He do that shiner on you?" De Luca nodded at the mark on the side of her head. It wasn't too noticeable and he was sure she'd gone to lengths to cover it up. He was worried but not too much. The woman could take care of herself but then again, she was sort of a protégé of his and if he had a kid, he wouldn't say no to something like her. He had a right to worry, a little, as long as she didn't know and nobody said it aloud.

"Probably a friend of his."

"We'll talk to him later," the detective nodded, "You gon' talk to him?"

She nodded, "Later."

"Alright," De Luca nodded, "We declaring fair grounds on the Lockhart thing?"

Kurt looked between the woman and his old friend. What the hell was going on? He knew De Luca dealt all kinds of business, but what exactly was he doing with Diane's case? Was this bargaining? If that was it, Kurt wasn't sure he could hold back. It was going to get personal if he was treating Diane like a trading chip.

"I'll have to talk to my boss but on my end?" Kalinda raised an eyebrow, "Sure. In one condition."

"Name it."

"Just you," she said simply, "Nobody else. We don't do business with hanger-ons."

"Kurt—"

"I'm talking about your partner."

"Clancy? Are you kidding?"

"I'm not," she shook her head, "I don't know him, Tony, and we don't like each other. Bad business."

De Luca gave Kurt a look, "See now how she kicks our asses?"

Kurt nodded, "I see."

Then detective turned to the private investigator, "Just you and me, kid. Fine. Done."

Kalinda nodded, "Good. I'm looking in on a few things right now…" she trailed off, her eyes drifting towards Kurt and De Luca waved a hand.

"He's just visiting," he said gruffly. "But you two might want to talk."

The woman glanced at the ballistics expert, "Fine."

"I want him alive, K," De Luca smirked, "And I'm pretty sure your boss wants him alive too."

She almost smiled, "I'd imagine."

"We'll meet again," De Luca said and began to walk away, "You two…chat. I'm sure you two can work some kind of friendship together."

As the old detective made his way out of the empty park, Kurt turned towards Kalinda and then glanced at the slight bruise on her temple, "You had that looked at already?"

A slight curl at the corner of her lips, "I'll live."

"That doesn't answer the question."

"You a doctor?"

"No," he said simply, "But I've been conked at the head a few times already."

"Think you got something for me?"

Kurt tilted his head sideways, "I might."

She gave him a ghostly smile and turned her back on him and began to walk away. He watched her for a moment before deciding to follow. Whatever this woman was on, he wasn't surprised how she was so good at her job. Her face gave nothing away and her demeanor was entirely controlled. She showed no hostility towards him but somehow he could not be sure if she saw him as a danger or anything. She was, in every sense of the word, a puzzle.

"You really gonna cut my balls off if I make the wrong move?" he asked as he caught up with her.

"No," she said then followed up after a beat, "I'd shoot it off."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"Think we'll be as chummy as Tony thinks?" he asked, watching the scenery ahead as they walked. They were close to the parking lot already and he could see a dark SUV not too far away from his F-150 pickup.

"Probably not."

Kurt almost grinned, "Yeah, I thought so."

-o0o-

In another part of town, a different vehicle was parked.

A dark blue sedan with dark tinted windows was parked by the curb, its driver holding the wheel with both hands, the fingers curled into tight clamps. He was tense, understandably so, as he waited. Any time now, he was sure of it.

The hospital front wasn't too populated, especially in this time of day but soon he knew the chances of more people coming would be high because of the visiting hours. Still, he could fairly guess his current focus' movements at the moment and he was sure he was there on time. Predictability was good for him, especially when it came to studying people. This particular person wasn't a hard case, not at all. Like clockwork, he could measure her daily activities and as well as guess what she would be doing if she deviated from her schedule, which wasn't often. He has seen and dealt with worse.

Catching sight of the dark hair, he then turned on his engine, feeling the old piece of tin come to life. He would soon dump it anyway, he didn't care if it was clacking here or there as long as he got what he needed.

Easing into a crawl, he waited, a map ready at his side just in case some well-meaning idiot decided to be nosy and butt in. He'd planned it out, it should work. He was a planner.

His current subject glanced in his direction, as if feeling his gaze, but he didn't falter. Dark tints were helpful and with that he was more than secure. The glance barely lasted and the dark head bobbed again, taking the turn towards the parking lot, the steps sure and relaxed. If she noticed anything odd, she didn't show it but he was pretty sure he was safe still. People were entirely too trusting really.

The car's speed took up a notch or two, his measurements of the distance and time demanding he take this a step higher. He could only get one chance for this and he knew he couldn't miss.

From a crawl to a subdued pace, seeming natural in a way that it looked as if he was just another driver leaving the hospital's vicinity before he took up speed all the way. Right in the middle of the road, right where his prey was he sped up, taking the car faster than necessary in a quiet street and he didn't hesitate.

It's not like the movies. There was no echoing screech of tires since he wasn't going that fast, just enough so if there was any warning at all, it was minimal. The unfortunate soul barely caught another glimpse of him before he pressed his foot on the pedal and the vehicle lurched, catching sight of the startled face.

Mostly he felt and heard rather than saw the body colliding harshly with the front of his car. There was a sickening thud as the bundled up form in a black coat snapped forward, smacking harshly his windshield with a sickening sound that caused spider web-like cracks to appear on the windshield, followed by a couple of rumbling bumps as she bounced and rolled up against the roof of the car before falling to the side in a heap.

He barely heard the body land and didn't even catch the glimpse of the first responders as they hurried towards the pile he had left behind. Instead, he hurried on, taking farther speed with a maniacal smile full of repressed glee spreading across his face.

There would be witnesses, there would even be recorded plate numbers but it would be hours before the police would find the car at the bottom of some lake out in the city. Every scrap of evidence would have been washed away by then and the plate numbers would lead nowhere as it had been stolen from a scrap yard where it was once attached to a 2006 model of a red BMW that had gone through a terrible crash.

Original plates for the sedan would have been long gone and the police would have nothing but a pile of scrap metal and a dead end.

He grinned happily because this time, his plans were once again in the right track.

And this time, he would make sure things stayed that way.

-o0o-

"Come back here you pesky mutt!"

Grace Florrick saw the blur that was her grandmother from across the room as she entered their home that afternoon. It didn't alarm her that Jackie Florrick was so active—she was pretty spry for her age, which was unfortunate for her grandchildren sometimes—but it _did_ alarm her to see the old lady brandishing something over her head and considering _who_ she was talking to, that was enough to get the young teen to drop her bags and rush after them.

"You—! Come back here!"

"Grandma no!" she yelled without thinking or seeing, acting more on instinct than anything and rushed past the startled old woman and scooped up the little dog that was hiding under the coffee table. She heard her grandmother huff irritably but—as she often did—ignored her as she cuddled the warm bundle to her chest, cooing as she did so. "Oh, Justice…"

"Honestly, I don't know what your mother was thinking bringing that _thing _into this house!"

"What did he do?" she turned, giving the older woman a look as she waved a wooden spoon in the air. She'd never seen the always prim and polished Jacqueline Florrick so frazzled with her hair a little puffier than usual and the scarf around her neck askew.

"That _dog_," she spat the word out like it was sour milk, "Made a mess in the laundry area! I thought he was potty trained!"

"He needed to be taken out," she said simply, "That's why I came home early, but if you were chasing him around, I'm sure that didn't help…you scared him."

"I did no such thing!" the woman seemed affronted of such accusation, waving the wooden spoon again.

The teen rolled her eyes, cuddling the dog on her shoulder and stalked out of the room, talking to the dog. She altogether ignored the old woman again who in turn gave the dog a spiteful look before turning back into the kitchen, wondering once again what her daughter-in-law was thinking.

Gathering her things in the foyer and making sure the dog was following after her, Grace glanced at the kitchen again to see her grandmother back to her usual work. Grace stared at the dog, "You made her clean up your pee, didn't you?"

The dog gave her what might as well be an innocent look and she giggled.

"Good boy," she smiled brightly before slipping into her room, shutting the door as soon as the miniature canine found his place on her bed, collapsing with a huff, which made her giggle once more.

Once again the young teen wondered just what it was about dogs that made her grandmother act like that. Justice was by far one of the cutest dogs she'd ever encountered, how could anyone not fall in love with him with those cute puppy eyes and button nose? He was well behaved too, which was a bonus. If Grace had a dog, she knew he would be exactly like cute little Justice.

Plopping next to the dog on the bed and pulling out her books, Grace smiled to herself and began to prepare for her night's worth of homework. Like everything else that was Jackie Florrick, Grace just shrugged it off and went on with her own life. After all, everyone had issues, even when it came to dogs.

And Grace knew all too well just how many issues her grandmother was capable of having—a _lot_.

-o0o-

"What the hell happened to you?"

Josh Gates glared at his friend from across the table and gave him the finger, "Your little soldier happened to me, _that__'__s _what happened, you idiot." He cursed under his breath again when he twisted his neck just a little wrong and felt the pain shoot straight down his spine.

"I asked you to check on her," Will frowned a little, leaning down to look at his friend's left cheek better, "Not get run over by a bus."

Gates glared, "I _did _get run over a bus…a small, hot, but unfortunately insane and fucked up bus in a skirt."

"You got your ass kicked by a girl."

"I _know_ girls, Gardner," Gates grumbled, "That was _no _girl…shit, I'd heard she was something but I thought they were exaggerating. Fuck, my neck's still screaming." He glared menacingly, "You fucking owe me, Gardner, you stupid bastard."

Will raised his hands in mock surrender, not attempting to hide the grin on his face, "Hey, I gave you the money. I'm all fixed on my end."

"This is going to cost you more," the other man gestured to the bag of peas he was pressing on the base of his neck. "You fucking asshole, Will. Next time, you check on your girl. She didn't even give me two seconds to tell her you sent me. Sent my ass flying to the ground and she was _this__ close_ to snapping my neck."

"Maybe you pissed her off."

"The way it looked, she was already pissed off," he grumbled, "She was on the ground, I thought she was dead…then she jumps up like my grandmother bolting from the grave…damn, that was _not _a girl."

Will chuckled, "Now you see why I break my neck trying to keep her?"

"I here you, but fuck you," Gates snorted, wiping the tip of his nose with his fingers, "We're even, Will. I'm not kidding. Nothing like this again. I'm too old for this shit."

Will nodded, "Fine, but you're still on my clock, right?"

"As long as you keep loony ninja away from me, yeah," he nodded, "With ten percent increase on my pay. You hired me to _look__ around_ not get my ass used to wipe the floor with."

"Hey, it wasn't—"

"Don't even think about saying it's not your fault because you fucking know it is," Gates waved the bag of peas in front of his friend's face. "You _told__ me_ you were worried something might've happened to her. You made it sound like she was _human _and capable of being _hurt_. The woman might as well be a freaking cyborg, you idiot."

The lawyer raised a finger, waving it almost threateningly, "You're getting free reign on the name calling, but this won't go on forever."

"Scared…no, terrified," Gates grumbled sardonically.

Will glared, "I'm not kidding," he shrugged, "Call me idiot again and I _will_ sic Kalinda on you."

Then with a snort, he burst out laughing, leaving his companion glaring at him and wondering if throwing peas at the bastard was worth letting the pain linger more without the cold compress. He grumbled, resorting to giving Will the finger again before pressing a button on his desk.

"I'm sorry," the lawyer practically giggled with glee, "It's really fucking funny."

"Fuck you," Gates mumbled.

"You rang," a voice interrupted and both men turned towards the door of Gates' small rundown office.

"I think I'm going to need more peas," Gates waved the bag.

"Poor dear," she said, shaking her head slightly as she checked his face over.

"He got his ass kicked by a girl," Will snickered from his corner, making sure he was well out of the way of a punch. It was enough that one of them was sporting a bruise.

Dotty gave Will a look that was both to admonish and gave him a hint she wasn't entirely angry, "Watch that mouth, William. I won't stop Joshua if he decides on anything."

The lawyer nodded, straightening up a little and said with all sincerity and a boyish grin, "Yes, ma'am."

The woman was old, most likely around seventy-something but Will couldn't know for sure. As far as he knew she'd already been around before he and Gates became friends. She ran his father's old diner where his office was in the back of and she took care of him like he was her son. She liked Will enough to give him pie whenever he was around and that was the best seal of approval she gave around.

"What did you do, Josh? Hm? Played detective again?" she shook her head, "When are you going to learn, eh? You're no Nick Charles. You're cute, but you're no Nicky."

"See how she builds my self-esteem?" Gates turned to Will who was grinning at him, "Comparing me to some fictional character…still, Dotty, you gotta admit, I can be smooth like Nick."

"Yeah? Where's your Nora, kid?" Dotty grinned, slipping a bag of frozen meat into his hand and snatching the peas away. "You take care of that face, Joshua or else William here'll get all the girls...even your Nora."

"If she even exists," Will mumbled, only to get a slight tap on the side of his cheek.

"Don't you be smart with me," Dotty said simply before heading out. "You boys play nice now."

The door closed behind her and Will grinned at his friend, "She's doing okay."

Gates nodded, "Yeah. I got her some old movies…_The__ Thin__ Man_ collection. She won't shut up about it now, notice that?"

"She thinks you'll get your own Nora Charles someday?"

"Rich, beautiful, will cater my booze habit and sexy as hell?" Gates snorted, "Yeah, right. But hey, live to dream, eh?"

Will nodded, "Sounds about right."

"Did you have to tell her I got my ass kicked by a girl?"

The lawyer laughed again, "It was too good to pass up. What'd you tell her happened?"

"Not that!"

Will shook his head, leaning forward in his seat as he began to sober himself up. For a moment, both men stayed silent before the signs of laughter disappeared from the polished lawyer's face as he slipped back into his work mode. Technically, he hadn't hired Gates for any something related to the office, but he'd hired him to find out what he could about what was happening around them. He'd gotten himself riled up over nothing about the damned photos and got nowhere except managing to practically memorize his partner's closet and god knew he wasn't going to get anywhere with those.

It was best he left the whole Sherlock Holmes business to someone who actually knew how to be a goddamned detective because despite Dotty's teasing, Gates knew his stuff. He just had an off day with Kalinda, but as far as Will knows, who hasn't had an off day with the investigator?

With a shadow drifting over his now somber face, Will asked quietly, "Did you find anything?"

Gates shrugged one shoulder, slipping into his work mode easily even as he balanced a piece of beef against the side of his head, "After I woke up, yeah, a few things. But nothing I can say for sure yet."

"What about the pictures?"

"Real stalker shit if you watch enough TV," his friend answered, wincing slightly as he gave an experimental, "Looked like whoever did this knew what they were doing. If she found out someone was following her, it would have been later _or _when they actually let her know…those pictures? She had no fucking idea."

"We already know this one," Will said, almost rolling his eyes. "I've got all sorts of people looking into this whole mess and we all seem to have the same set of cards…what the hell is up with that? Even the cops can't find anything."

Gates nodded, "I hear you. I talked to a buddy of mine. You know De Luca, right? Of course you do, you just yelled at him when he questioned you—good job, by the way, poking the bear like that is _real_ smart—he's getting heat from the big bosses about the whole shit."

"What are you talking?"

"I'm talking about this whole shit hitting the fan," Gates grumbled, "Everyone's covering their asses and nobody knows why. I mean, sure, your partner's hot shit but she's not in politics except for endorsing here and there, she's got the money and her last name has some weight cause of her daddy dearest but the whole thing setting everyone off? That's not normal."

"What do you think it is?" Will asked, frowning a little. He'd heard the plans for the expected attempts of competing firms in trying to grab their clients but nothing about whatever offset Gates was talking about.

"Hell if I know," he shrugged, "I'm just hired help."

Will gave him a look, "Come on, you seriously think I'm going to buy that? What've you heard?"

Gates stared at him for a moment before shrugging, "Nothing much, alright? Just some whispers here and there. Nothing about who could have hired Jackson for the job."

"You'll find out?"

Gates gave him a lazy look, "I can try but you got Kalinda on that as well. Are you trying to get us racing or—"

Will shook his head, "Two heads are better than one, right?"

"Not if they're working against each other."

"She knows about you," Will said, "Try and meet up with her…I'll give her a head's up so she won't dropkick you next time you see each other."

"I am kicking _your_ ass if she touches me again."

Will smirked, "Why, Joshua, is that fear I hear in your voice?"

"I know my limits," he looked down, "And living with no testicles? That's way over."

The two friends laughed, one balancing a piece of meet on his face while the other let the wheels turn in his mind about the information he had gathered.

After a piece of pie and a few more chats, it was back to work for the two of them.

-o0o-

A laugh escaped her lips before she could stop herself.

"What?"

"Just a text," she snickered, fingers tracing the rim of her wineglass as she typed a reply.

"Sharing with the class?"

Alicia smiled, turning her head towards her current drinking buddy. She still had that slight bruise on the side of her head, one she had brushed off and caused her to give Alicia _the __look_ that silenced her questions immediately. She did not want to talk about it so she dropped it because the last time she'd gotten that look that was back when they just met each other and it was as unnerving then as it was now.

"Grace just sent a text that said _Grandma__ went __postal__ on __Justice_," Alicia repeated then laughed again, trying to imagine Jackie Florrick throwing a fit about the dog. It would be funny, she decided, especially since there was a smiley face with a tongue sticking out at the end of the sentence. Grace wasn't the type to use that unless it was absolutely needed and for this, it definitely needed it.

Kalinda gave her one of those ghostly smiles again that made Alicia remember the Mona Lisa. If they thought Da Vinci's muse had an intriguing smile, they should meet Kalinda Sharma. The woman was a walking mystery wrapped in enigma.

"Maybe she's not a dog person."

Alicia nodded, "Most likely. Neither am I, I mean, not really but just for this? It makes taking care of Justice a little bit more fun than before."

"You're taking care of the dog?"

"Will pawned him off to me," she shrugged and took a sip of her drink, "We made a deal."

"Hm," the other woman hummed, nodding slowly.

"So what are you working on right now?" Alicia asked after a moment, "Anything on the thing with Diane."

Kalinda smirked, "You don't have to whisper it, Alicia. Despite what people may think, the country isn't as Big Brother-ed as the conspiracy nuts may think."

The brunette shook her head, "I didn't even know I was whispering. But did you find…anything?"

"No," she said as she looked ahead, glancing at the reflection of a bar patron that had obviously taken an interest in them. She met his eyes in their reflection in the mirror, held it for about thirty seconds before he looked away, flushed. She smirked. It was too easy.

"I got to speak with my client already," Alicia said, oblivious to the attention she and her companion had attracted only moments ago. "I have a feeling this could be easy, but god knows what else is coming next. I still have that Dollop case in the wings."

"And Julius is still delegating like he's feeding chickens in a barn," Kalinda mumbled, downing her shot of tequila easily. "Aren't you supposed to be home?"

"No," Alicia shook her head slightly, "I need to wind down. Grace has Justice, Zack is currently playing the good boy card—either he did something or wants something, we'll see soon enough—and my mother-in-law is still playing Betty Crocker right about now."

"Sounds fun."

"It's very Stepford," Alicia said simply.

"I'll bet."

"Are you ever going to tell me about that bruise?"

Kalinda turned to her again, giving her that same enhanced Mona Lisa smile of hers before saying simply, "No."

Alicia would never know why but somehow, that particular smile always had a way of making a shiver run up the length of her spine. She sat a little straighter, wondering if perhaps she should think twice about finishing her drink. In the corner of her eye she saw the woman look away and she could have sworn she actually smiled then. Kalinda had to know how she was affecting her. Evil woman.

Still, Alicia wouldn't be the first to admit that Kalinda Sharma unnerved her and if the woman in question knew that then what could she do? In fact, what didn't that woman know? Alicia guessed not a lot. Knowing and digging up ways to know was her business, after all.

Taking a long gulp of her Bordeaux, silently Alicia thanked the gods for making them friends instead of anything else.

Because after all, who would want Kalinda for an enemy?

-o0o-

"Remind me again why we always meet here?"

Daniel looked up, grinning over the brim of a plain white coffee cup as he drank as his visitor slipped into the booth across from him. It was the same booth they occupied two years prior when they'd last met there and just the same as then as well as every other time they came to this particular spot they. It was all planned, of course, because every time they both met at this particular place, both knew they'd come more for business than personal matters.

Although of course his purpose was personal _this __time_ while the other man's was purely business, they knew each other well enough to know the same level of respect would be present. They just don't have to label it, of course, and why should they when two, three, four years prior their meetings had always end up in success?

"I think it's charming," he said simply, dabbing at the corners of his mouth while motioning for a young waitress to fill his cup. She approached with a smile that was clearly asking for tips and refilled his cup while inquiring about her new customer's orders. She received a wave of a hand and a slight shake of the head for that and Daniel could not help the chuckle that escaped him.

"What?"

"You're so charming," Daniel teased lightly, "I wonder just how many restaurants have you alienated."

A sneer, "Restaurant? This is a two-bit diner straight the eighties gave up calling back for."

"Don't be such a snob," he chuckled, "Now, come on, since you're clearly not getting some spit-laden brew, shall we get down to business?"

"Of course," he nodded, leaning back in his seat while straightening the lapel of his suit. Even in the middle of some dinner a few minutes out of the city, he could still manage to look polished but even then, Daniel's laid back look could still compete, with his patrician features, easy smile and cashmere sweater. "I'm surprised you made it this early. I was expecting you to call a lot later than this."

Daniel shrugged, "Nick's back at the house trying to get his things together and my sister is in the hospital, most likely with her…beau."

"Ah, yes, I hear about that," a smirk and a chuckle, "The Republican."

"That one."

"Is he as…pedestrian as I imagine him to be?"

"Surprisingly not," he replied, "Interesting man and she seems to be enjoying his company. What does that tell you?"

"Either she's lost it _or _some latent rebellion thing," he shrugged, "She was always the good one. Well, between the two of you but god only knows how good she can be, considering."

Daniel smirked, "Oh, Eli, I didn't know you loved us so."

The other man grinned sardonically, "I wouldn't call it love, Daniel. Your sister is impressive and you've always…_delivered_ but you broke my heart, both of you…throwing away such opportunities."

"If I ever went into public office with you at the helm," the taller man grinned, "You'd have blown your brains out by now."

Eli Gold grinned, "Will you ever stop underestimating me, Dan?"

"Have I ever?"

"Seems like it now," he shrugged, "But enough of that. I'm here for business. What do you have for me?"

"I want something first."

"Naturally," he nodded, "But what do you have for me?"

"Something for your boy Peter Florrick," Daniel said simply, smiling serenely as he traced the rim of his cup with a long finger.

A familiar glint floated in the political strategist's eyes, "I'm listening."

"It could help him…immensely," he went on, "It's about a mutual friend of ours."

"Sarcasm," Eli raised his eyebrows, "With a hint of cruel amusement _and_ resentment. That could mean a number of people in this city. I know a few of them who can provoke such reaction from you _and_ Peter."

Daniel rolled his eyes, "Glenn Childs."

Eli stopped, the grin on his face disappearing and morphing into a mask of cool determination and a seriousness he had not exhibited since their conversation began, "Childs?"

"Yes," Daniel nodded, "Turns out we _also_ have mutual friends overseas, specifically in Europe."

"Childs…is nothing."

"Really?" he chuckled, "The man who holds the key to your pet's cage? Your golden duck, Eli? Come on, we've known each other too long to start playing games like this. It's insulting."

Eli stared at him for a moment before shaking his head, glancing surreptitiously around them to make sure no one listening. It wasn't necessary, of course, considering they were the only customers in the place aside from the two men who looked like truckers in a faraway corner booth. The cashier was behind the counter and the waitress on the other side, wiping down tables.

There was a reason they picked this place, the same reason why Daniel always left an enormous tip.

"You've never lied to me," Eli said finally after a moment. It wasn't a question.

"I see no reason," Daniel shrugged, "Since you've been honest to me as well. And your…services have never once failed me."

"You're a good customer," Eli shrugged. "So you swear you have something."

"Came across it by pure accident, I admit," Daniel shrugged, "But yes…you'll dance, Eli, like you never have before." He smirked, "It could…come in handy for when that rat starts rattling your cage. Rattle his right back, I say. This is material not just anyone can come across."

"Sounds interesting," Eli nodded, "What do you want for it?"

"Names," Daniel replied, his eyes taking on a darker shade and it didn't take much for Eli to figure out that this had something to do with the reason why he'd come back to Chicago so suddenly.

"Whose?"

"Whoever had _anything _to do with what happened to Diane," the other man replied, silently. "I want answers and the police are obviously getting nowhere."

Eli was incredulous, "You want me to fix this? Dan, have you been smoking some Middle Eastern crap again? It's an open investigation and the police are moving. Not to mention everything happened less than forty-eight hours ago."

"You doubt your own skills?" Daniel raised an eyebrow, "I can't believe that." He smirked, "And I never said I wanted you to solve anything. I said I want names."

"What names?" Eli growled a little, "If Diane has been dabbling into things—"

"People talk," Daniel cut him off, "Do what you do best—listen. _If _Diane has been _dabbling__ into __things_ as you so eloquently put it, I want to know. If there's someone responsible? I want to know. Do what you do, Eli."

"Politics, dirt, burying people, burying companies and polishing images to the point that they make Mother Teresa look like Jezebel—that, I can do," he glared, "But butting into a mess like this?"

"I can deliver you Childs, Eli," the other man said smoothly, showing no signs at all that he was getting agitated with the man's agitation regarding his request, "And knowing you, you can use what I have to your advantage to get Peter Florrick out of jail."

Eli stopped then stared at the man across from him, eyes squinting a little, "What do you know about what happened to your sister, Daniel?"

"If I knew, you think I'd come to you?"

The other man didn't answer immediately and instead, continued to stare at him, intelligent probing eyes examining him like a bug under a microscope. Daniel didn't move and instead, maintained eye-contact, his features hard and resolute. He had nothing to hide, even to the great Eli Gold.

"I can't promise you anything."

"I know," Daniel nodded, "But I trust you to keep your word."

"You'll give me something on Childs before anything?"

"Yes," Daniel nodded, "Call it…an exercise of trust."

Eli stared at him for a moment again before a look passed over his face as he leaned forward, "What do you have on Peter?"

Daniel grinned, "You know me too well, Eli."

"Maybe," he said, "but this is common sense. You wouldn't just hand me Childs for nothing. You have something on Peter, don't you?"

"Nothing as bad as Glenn," he shrugged, "Because, really, what's Peter done other than hookers?"

Eli ignored the grin that came with the pun and instead, leaned forward to examine his companion, "You tell me. You have a dossier on Peter, don't you?"

"Just like I have one on Childs and a few other friends," Daniel shrugged, "I'll tell you, even show you…in time."

Eli leaned back, looking at the other man over his nose, "You bastard."

"So it's a deal?" Daniel grinned, unfazed.

Eli was far too adept to let his emotions take over this particular meeting and as far as he knew, Daniel Lockhart had yet to cross him. Plus, he was pretty sure the man _did_ have those dossiers he mentioned. He wouldn't put it past him. He may seem like an oddball at times, but Eli knew the man well enough what lay underneath the surface.

Like his sister, Daniel could perfectly understand just how deceiving appearances could be.

The other man glared at him for a moment before a malevolent smile appeared on his face, "Deal."

Out of everyone he knew, Eli could single out Daniel to be one of the best pretenders he'd ever come across, so adept at hiding his emotions, in telling the most convincing lies and gaining people's trust. It was all the more reason why he also resented the man for not going into politics—the man had it in his blood, a thoroughbred, who could just as easily surpassed the likes of Glenn Childs and compete with the Peter Florricks of the world.

Daniel smiled, "Excellent. I trust you, Eli."

He smirked, "That's dangerous, Dan. Even for you."

"Call it my own Russian Roulette," he shrugged. "I'd go all in on you, Eli. Any day."

"I'm flattered."

The two men exchanged grins and a nod—they didn't shake hands because they didn't have to. In the end, they both had faith the other would deliver, eventually. Patience and time was all they needed, plus a few bucks and a few people here and there.

And for an agreement like theirs, that was enough.


	19. Chapter 19: Indication

**Blackout  
**by: raileht  
**  
****Summary:** It was over. The fight in her was almost completely out and she was nearing total exhaustion. She was about to die.  
**Disclaimer: **The ones you don't know are mine, the ones you do aren't.  
**Rating: **T, to be safe

**Note: Thanks for the reviews—most especially 'fanforum4GW' because that was hilarious!  
**

**Chapter Title taken from:**  
The Zombies, _Indication_**  
**

-o0oo0oo0o-

**Chapter Nineteen: Indication  
**

"Where's the fire?"

De Luca entered the bullpen, catching John Corelli as he jumped from his seat and made a grab for his gun and badge. Johnny was his former partner, one of the first he'd trained and easily one of the best though he didn't say it out loud to a lot of people. He knew that look on the kid, the way his eyebrows pinched and a his eyes would cloud.

"Hit and run in a hospital," Johnny shook his head, "Young female doctor...car came outta nowhere. It was brutal."

The old detective nodded, "Go get 'im."

"Press is already there, thanks to your case," Johnny mumbled, "One of these days I'm going to take my service and just shoot them all dead."

"Yeah, well, you won't be alone if that day ever comes," De Luca snorted as he passed the other man, thumping him on the shoulder, "Go get the dirtbag."

"She was a month away from entering her residency," the younger man growled, "That bastard's mine. Oh, and I ran into Clancy, by the way. Your case going?"

De Luca shrugged, pulling out his phone and realized he had a message from Li down at Autopsy and Clancy, "It's going but you got your hands on this one so I won't talk your ear off."

"Tobin's still spittin'," Johnny smirked, "He's got his gun loaded so better watch out."

The older man shook his head, "Not a problem, he'll aim it where he usually does anyway."

"His foot?"

He lifted his hands in a sign of surrender, "Your words, not mine."

Johnny smirked, "Nice. I gotta get to the scene. I've got a feeling I got this case 'cause of the press...my case seems to be taking the light off yours."

"Thanks," De Luca muttered, "Remind me to buy you a drink."

"Just show up for poker on Thursday," the sandy haired detective chuckled, "I'll clean you out, 'long with Pacci and we can call it even."

"You're asking for trouble, boy," De Luca chuckled, waving as he walked past him and moved towards his own desk, "Do what you can with those guys, have them cordoned off the hospital, if that's possible, considering it's a crime scene. They've been on my ass."

"I'll do you one better," Johnny said, patting his shoulder, "I'll extend the parameter as far back as possible. I've got witnesses but I'm not holding my breath on that front."

"Thanks," he shook a friendly fist at him. He had trained the man back when he was still green and Johnny knew well enough De Luca did not deal with reporters when he could avoid them. That was okay too because John Corelli, with his pretty blue eyes, blonde hair and easy smile fit for the cameras, knew how to deal with the press and haggle.

He was no attention-whore, but he knew enough to play with the press to get them on his side. He worked them to fit his methods and they loved the cooperation they got from the 'blonde Italian'. And while De Luca may sneer at that trait when it comes to other people, he could not fault Johnny for that. It didn't hurt Johnny Corelli that his parents were once part of the press pool as well. It didn't take a rocket scientist to imagine his career taking off.

It was funny to John that he ended on the other side of the tracks, but De Luca was glad. The man was a good detective and De Luca was hoping the same outcome with his current partner Clancy, considering his potential. The kid was smart, sharp and had a level head. A little green around the edges, but who wasn't the first few years? Even De Luca had his bumbling idiot phase and he was still grateful to _his_ mentor Conrad Brass. _God bless your soul, you old bastard._

Tearing himself from his earlier years, that reminded De Luca to make his overdue call as he sat behind his desk, already figuring that the press would be clamoring for what was sure to be a bit of sit-and-spin session with Johnny. The ringing of his current partner's phone continued and De Luca hoped to hell he wouldn't have to rip the guy a new one for not picking up.

"Clancy."

"Hey, kid, you got something for me?" De Luca's never really understood why people answer their phones with their own last names but he wasn't about to call them out on it. He wasn't the boss of phone etiquette and heaven knew his style was far from polished. His last name just didn't sound as good answering a phone like that, was all.

"Yeah," the other man replied, "Remember Doyle?"

"The snitch? Ratty Doyle?"

"One and only," Clancy chuckled, "He said he saw someone by the description of Jeffrey Spellman not too far from his corner yesterday, 'bout 4 or 5 in the afternoon."

De Luca raised his eyebrows, "Anything else?"

"Yeah, said he saw him talking to someone else, some guy who looked like he could be in his mid-twenties, dressed pretty good, not like Spellman who wasn't exactly on the side of clean shaven," Clancy explained, "Said they talked for a while, in an alley or somethin'. He also said the guy who looked like Jeffrey boy? Seemed pissed as hell, throwing his arms all over the place."

The older man sat down, scribbling on his pad, "Any ID on the guy he was talkin' to?"

"No," Clancy answered, "But the only reason why Doyle spotted him was 'cause he didn't look like he belonged round the place. Chalked it off to a buyer. I mean, it was only a matter of time before Spellman got back into the business, right?"

"He was clean, last they checked," De Luca mumbled, "Then again, you ain't gotta be dirty to sell."

"Exactly," Clancy agreed, "But after that, no one's seen the mystery guy _and_ Spellman. We're talking to other street runners, but I think Doyle's the best we got on this thing."

"And he's not even entirely sure it was Spellman."

"He's almost positive it was," Clancy offered, "He's been to that place where Spellman works and he's been around the business for a while…it's possible they crossed paths ten years ago. Or something."

"Or something but Spellman was on the rise back before he got picked up," De Luca mumbled, "Great job, kid. I'm talking to some people too. If nothing comes up, get back here."

"It really doesn't feel like there's much else here," Clancy confessed, "With Jackson in the morgue…"

"Makes it open and shut, I know."

"So what do we do?"

De Luca shook his head, "Least find Spellman. The letters and photos are evidence. Even if we tie one to Jackson, the other can't. Far as we know, we don't leave loose ends."

"I hear you, boss."

"Yeah," De Luca grumbled, "And don't call me boss!"

"Right. I'll make one last 'round then get back," Clancy sighed, "Maybe we can find more than Ratty Doyle to give us something. Guy seemed like he's been drinking."

"Yeah, well, he's Irish," De Luca commented, "You circulating Spellman's photo?"

"Sure am," Clancy confirmed readily, "We got people keeping their eyes out. Guys on the beat and some contacts. If he's on the streets, we're going to get him."

"Good, then maybe we'll get something off this whole thing," De Luca said, scanning his notes as he sunk into his seat comfortably.

"People seem to think we already got the breaks we need."

"Yeah, well they're not sitting where I am," De Luca growled, "Sooner or later they're gonna start calling me crazy and then retirement's gonn' be singin' for me."

"We won't let that happen, of course."

"Be a cold day in hell."

"I'm not sticking around for the hugs and kisses, Tony."

De Luca laughed, "Back at ya, kid. Finish up there so we can get this thing rollin'."

He hung up, looking over the test results and evidence list he had, adding the few bits Clancy managed to bring to him. There had to be more to it, he thought. He's been on the job long enough to know how open and shut cases felt like and there were too many loose ends on the one he was dealing with. Too many things and the more he looked at it, the more they dug, the messier the puzzle seemed. There was no specific direction, names popping up everywhere, motives adding with each person. It was frustrating, to say the least.

And the thing was, his gut was screaming there was a hell of a lot more going on that the papers were showing. He wasn't done with his investigation yet. What Clancy found was useful, just like the things he'd found out about Malcolm Overby whom De Luca was still trying to decipher. Was the guy just a jackass scumbag or was there more to the story than he had let on? The smug bastard just rubbed him the wrong way and usually, that meant something _bad_.

De Luca sat back, deciding he was going to get the kid to get him coffee when he got back. The running around the city had a habit of reminding him he wasn't twenty-five anymore. And hadn't been for a long, long time, but that didn't matter because as far as De Luca knew, they weren't done yet.

Not even close.

-o0o-

Sometimes it takes a while for people to realize a person is going to be important in their lives.

Other times, it takes less than a few minutes.

For Kurt McVeigh, a very smart man who just seemed to have the funniest luck when it came to elevators these days, found himself being accompanied in one at the very last second by a set of long elegant fingers. The hand had casually reached through the door, waited until they were fully opened before the person stepped in.

Black was the first thing he noticed. All black outfit with a large designer bag to match hanging on one slender shoulder. The sleek dark hair cut in a stylish bob emphasized her face and went perfectly with her painted red lips on pale white skin. He would have noticed her eyes, had they been visible but she hid them with a pair of designer sunglasses but he didn't fail to notice the Starbucks cup in her hand.

He stepped aside, ever the gentleman and gave the stranger the space. He waited for her to push a button for a floor, but she didn't move, not until the doors closed.

And out of nowhere, she handed him a muffin.

"Take it," she said simply, her body perfectly in line with the doors and sipped her latte casually.

Kurt did, staring at her and the muffin that looked like it could have berries on it. _Blueberries?_ It looked relatively harmless but then who goes around giving out cupcakes to random strangers? She didn't exactly look like a candy striper of any sort. So Kurt waited, staring at the woman but she simply shrugged and smiled without turning her head in his direction again.

"It's not rigged to explode," she said after they passed a floor. "It's for you."

"Uh…"

"It's a muffin," she continued, "One of the best I've ever had. Perfectly sinful. But worth it."

"Thanks, but why would you give me a muffin?"

"Why not?" she asked. This time she turned her head towards him with a perfectly arched eyebrow peeking at the top of her eyewear and then proceeded to blatantly checked him out. "You're not on a diet are you? Because you look fine, honey."

"I'm not really a muffin kinda guy," he mumbled, still standing awkwardly holding a muffin while speaking to what could possibly the strangest woman he'd come across recently.

"What the _hell_ is a muffin kind of guy anyway?" the woman mused, pursing her lips a little. "It's food. You eat it. Believe me, it's all the rage these days. For most people, at least."

"I'm not hungry."

"Eat the muffin."

"No, thank you," he handed it to her but she didn't even move to take it back.

"You took the muffin, you eat the muffin."

"I don't want a muffin."

"You sure as hell aren't getting my latte."

"I didn't ask for that either. Take the muffin back."

"Nah, eat the muffin."

"I don't want to."

"Then toss it. It'll be a waste, but it's your muffin."

He frowned, "What exactly is happening here?"

"I gave you a muffin. Now you eat the muffin."

"I don't want a muffin and I don't know you."

"It's a muffin, I didn't ask you to get me off."

His eyebrows shot up, "Why are you making me eat a muffin?"

"I like muffins and I try to be nice when it's poss…" she snorted, "Okay, that's a lie. I gave you a muffin because they are quite nice."

"Did you get out of the psych ward or are you one of their success stories?" he couldn't help but ask and he was dead serious.

"That's entirely possible," she hummed, "But no."

"Why give me a muffin?"

"I'm Gwen," she smiled wolfishly and didn't even bother answering him. "Gwen Blackwell."

"…okay, I don't know what that means to _me_," he said honestly. The talk of the muffin wasn't doing his mood well and they were almost at his floor. He tried to remember if he was getting the name right. Diane had said _Gwen_ when she threatened her brother, hadn't she?

"It means a lot, I think. Or it should…?"

"Why?"

"Because _you_ are sleeping with my best friend," she said nonchalantly, "And I'm the whackjob that might just stand in your way."

"Best friend?"

"Yes, and aister-in-law," she shrugged, "Ex, but who cares about the fine print? It's not as if I divorced _her_. Just her idiot of a brother."

"Right," he muttered, blinking at her.

"And you know what else?"

"…what?"

"I know how to castrate a man," she brightened. "Minimal scarring apart from, _you know_, and fairly painless though that depends on my personal feelings during the process."

"Excuse me?"

She smiled, "Eat your muffin."

Kurt stared at the woman, muffin in hand and wondered whether he should be afraid or not. And he was still wondering by the time the doors opened and they both stepped out.

"Such a gentleman," she cooed as she passed him when he allowed her to exit first.

He was still in the middle of gathering his wits about after such a meeting when he felt someone's hand dig into the fabric on his shoulder. A sharp tug and a hard pull, he found himself being dragged into the stairwell not too far away from the elevators. He almost protested and fought back when he realized Gwen was the one dragging him. She was a _lot_ stronger than she looked.

The heavy doors didn't slow her down and neither did her giving another harder pull at him, tossing him ahead of her. The door closed behind her and she tore off her sunglasses, revealing a pair of arresting emerald green eyes and a look of fierce determination. Gone was the muffin-pusher from the elevators. This woman standing in front of him meant business.

"You don't know me and most probably have _never_ heard of me," she began, her voice low even in the silence that the stairwell provided, "But I'm going to be around for a while and I'm guessing, you are going to be as well."

"Sounds about right," he nodded, leaning back against the railing and casually slipped one hand in his pocket while the other held on to the muffin.

"You know more than I do," she said, "For now, at least. But I know what you do. Guns, right?"

"Ballistics," he corrected lightly.

"Good," she smiled though it held no humor and for some reason, unnerved him. "Very good. You know why, Mr. McVeigh?"

"Why _you_ think that's good? No," and he also didn't know why Daniel Lockhart thought it was a good idea to marry this woman who was so obviously a little on the scary side. He wasn't surprised the man was avoiding her like a plague.

"It's good because we're going to be around Diane Lockhart for a while," she said, placing a hand on his arm, invading his personal space. "_Good_ because both of us are going to get answers as to why this happened, if there is a _who_ is responsible and if so, what can be done? Get it?"

Kurt stared at her, "Not really."

Gwen smiled in a more predatory manner, "You will. You don't know it yet…but should it ever come to when we find out who exactly is responsible, you won't want to stop until this is over."

"The police—"

The woman laughed quietly, "Won't satisfy the need we _both_ have to make whoever is responsible pay." Her green eyes met his head on, "And don't even deny you feel that. We're not the only ones. It's instinct, human nature. When a family is threatened…"

He could only pretend to be dense so far and the line was it for him. He knew what she could possibly thinking, he could see it in her eyes. But it wasn't something he was about to get into. There were other ways—ways that wouldn't land them in boiling hot water.

And yet, the mumbled "It's not right," was the weakest argument he could make though frankly, that was the first thing that came to mind. It wasn't just his personal space she was invading.

Gwen crossed her arms across her chest, "What happened to her wasn't right either."

"What separates us—"

"Don't give me the lecture, it's a waste of precious breath" she smirked, "Diane may not have told you about me so I'm telling you something to get the ball rolling." She pulled out something from under her turtleneck, "See this? I'm an Army brat and, yes, you can bet your ass I know guns. My father was _very_ proficient with them. I wasn't allowed to be anything less."

Kurt stared at the dog tags, trying to decipher the engravings, but she kept them out of his sight.

"And if you ask me if I have a problem taking a man's life?" she began, speaking lower, "The answer is no. And if it's for Diane? I wouldn't even blink."

He looked at her, "How do you know it's a man?"

"Man, woman, bitch, bastard, fucker," Gwen waved a dismissive hand, "It won't matter. An eye for an eye and that's from the Bible. From the Big Man Himself, depending on what you believe."

"This isn't something Diane would want."

"Who said anything about what Diane wants?" she pulled back, giving him a pleasant smile before waving her latte at him, "There's a reason why Daniel avoids my calls," she shook her head, "And it's not because I might shoot him."

Kurt watched her go, unsure whether to be surprised or fascinated as she simply sauntered away after making what was technically a pact for revenge and to commit murder. If there was someone to kill, that is but the way she spoke almost seemed as if she knew for sure there was.

The dark haired woman opened the door, stopped then smiled at him over her shoulder, "And just in case you're still wondering? Yes, I _am_ the crazy bitch around here."

He waited until she was gone and he was alone then noted her for her dramatics and didn't, for one second, doubt that he was the only one. Somehow, something told him this was only the beginning for him and Gwen and decided he really did not know how or what to feel about that. In a way, she fascinated him in the most dangerous manner. He wondered just where cooperating with her would leave him because something told him being around her was anything _but_ safe.

Yet when she spoke of Diane, he could see she was genuine about it. That somehow, through the whole thing, it was possibly one of the most personal affronts for her. And the way she was so blasé about the subject of revenge—it was eerie, to say the least.

Also, he surmised that he could definitely imagine her with Daniel now. They seemed like a match, if their sense of humor was anything to go by. He could imagine them sharing wicked jokes together, it almost made sense. He was curious just how mercurial it was going to be _when_ the two finally shared their reunion because he was sure it was unavoidable.

It wasn't as if Daniel had been subtle about wanting the same things his ex-wife did as well though his plans were more hands-off. If anything, he could see the two plotting together about what course of action to take. It was almost scary to think about, insane even. They _could_ be insane separately, what more together? What then? Chaos, that much he could guess.

And that was when realization dawned on the ballistics expert as he stood there, leaning against the railing and holding a muffin that she had so easily thrust upon him. Gwen had made no light of her intentions, of the things she _could_ do if things ever came to a point. And she made no secret about her desire to include him in the process.

Kurt realized that he hadn't exactly said no.

-o0o-

One-hundred and twenty-three.

That was the number ringing in his ears even though there was nobody to actually speak them. He didn't need for anyone to say it, didn't need to have it voiced out.

Not when it was written in dark, dark black ink printed neatly and precisely in a whiter-than-white piece of paper, the heading and emblem of the hospital clear at the very top.

_123 _seconds_._

That was it.

It may not seem much and he can stay under water for longer than that without panicking, but on the white paper with the doctor's signature at the bottom along with the other necessary information, those numbers might as well mean forever. Two minutes and three seconds. He didn't need a medical degree to understand that even for that long, those minutes and seconds were crucial, chaotic.

Clinically dead for 123 seconds on the operating table where her pulse just suddenly disappeared, her heart stopping after all the fight she'd given in the ambulance, through the Emergency Room and the amount of blood loss she suffered. _Dead_ after staving off death for the journey—she hadn't even stopped breathing until she'd been found and god only knew how long that took. And it wasn't as if he could just go out and measure the amount of blood she'd lost and calculate the time it took before Will Gardner got to her.

In the middle of repairing the damages, surrounded by a team of skilled surgeons and nurses, hooked on all sorts of equipment she couldn't even begin to imagine and _that_ was the moment when her heart gave in. No, scratch that—when _she_ gave in.

Taking notes from films and television, he can only imagine the incessant beeping that served as an alarm to let people know something was going incredibly wrong and the endless lines that would have appeared on those monitors as the numbers dwindled down to nothing. He can only imagine how her heart stopping would have jumped started the hearts of the people around her.

He _can _imagine, yes, but maybe not. He didn't want to. It was _hell_ thinking about it, what more to actually have been there, see the way she _died_ even if it was only for moment? Imagining might as well be wishing to really have been there. He can admit to himself he's too cowardly for that, even in his thoughts.

One-hundred and twenty-three seconds.

Diane Lockhart was clinically dead for one-hundred and twenty-three seconds and for a while, from what he could read, it didn't seem like she was coming back for a moment there. That it had been over. He didn't want to think about that either, didn't want to imagine that _maybe_ she didn't _want_ to come back. He's heard things like that before, about patients in comas not waking because they simply didn't want to.

What about patients who just suddenly let go in the middle of everything? Could the same apply? Was it possible that she let go because she simply _wanted_ to? Did she let go simply because she _didn't_ want to come back?

The thought in itself was the most absurd, most inconceivable, definitely the _mother of all stupid_ theories—or guesses or whatever the hell you can call it—he has ever come across in his entire life.

But he won't explain or even acknowledge why the simplest brush of that thought was enough to gag him, was enough to make _his_ heart stop. Why did his throat feel so full all of a sudden? Allergies, maybe.

He wasn't considering that, the letting go aspect because if anyone was about ready to let go of life after fighting back like that, the way she's always had her whole life. It was absurd. Impossible. Ludicrous. _Stupid_. It wasn't something she was capable of, as far as he knew.

And he'd like to think that he at least knew her better than most.

123.

If there's one thing he can say about himself, he's not the emotional type.

And yet, seeing those numbers 1, 2 and 3 strung together, followed by the most clinical, most _sterile_ statements and explanations only a hospital could muster, it was enough to leave his own heart hammering against his chest. As if on its own it was reminding him he had one too, that it was there as well. He hadn't even noticed he had begun to shake, that breathing had become quite an issue just reading those goddamned papers. _Jesus Christ._

He's not emotional and yet, somehow, he couldn't help the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat. Or the sudden burning in his eyes. There were too many things running around in his mind, too many possibilities and way too many nightmare scenarios. It was all making it just a little bit harder to breathe, choking him slowly in his silent agony.

_Breathe_, he reminded himself, _breathe_.

And in the quiet of the hospital's chapel, Nicholas Lockhart sat in a pew alone and allowed himself to cry.

-o0o-

Diane Lockhart was livid.

Letting her fingers slide from one side of the screen to the other, she let the pages flow by. She was armed now, with the new phone her assistants had gotten her and thanks to modern technology, she was able to track things easily with it and some very generous source of Wi-Fi from the hospital. And of course, it also helped her get to the point where she was livid now.

Easy as that, she decided she was going to kill Julius Caine.

It would be slow, painful, agonizing and she was going to draw it out to the very end. She was going to make sure nobody would find the body too because she was smart enough to do that. There's no such thing as the perfect crime, but she was sure as hell going to try just for this because Julius Caine was a dead man. As far as she was concerned and she hoped for his sake his will was ready.

One of her cases, the ones Will Gardner—she was going to kill him next—passed on to him, was making bleeps in the radars of bloggers. Nothing big yet at least, considering it hadn't hit the legitimate papers but god only knows how long that could last. It would complicate the case and make it even harder to find some way to settle because last time she met with opposing council, she was _that_ close in getting them to fold.

She was staying far away from checking whether her own name had gotten through the cycle so she was making do instead with checking for her more important cases. So far, she had skipped one illustrious blogger's mention of her name that wasn't pertinent to any case and she was going to stick to making sure she didn't read about herself. It wasn't vanity—making headlines for a case was one thing, reading the ones about your own murder or, god forbid, any kind of obituary, was the kind of experience she wasn't willing to even attempt, thank you very much.

And that was how she got on to the subject of deciding whether throwing him into Lake Michigan or just set his corpse on fire would be the better choice. Goddamn that man, Diane thought with a glare, wincing a little when she felt the dull throbbing in her hand. Perhaps forcing her hand that was attached to the forearm wrapped in plaster into holding her iPhone wasn't the best idea but Diane needed more than her nephew's Kindle to pass the time.

Their tastes in literature weren't too different and sure, there were things she would have been interested in but Diane was not for idle reading at the moment. She _needed_ to work, needed to make sure nothing was falling apart while she was being held by some rather vindictive doctors and her brother who also happened to be on her list of 'to kills'.

Diane had been too preoccupied by her reading and sneering at the blog entries she'd manage to pull so she didn't notice the door to her room opening.

"When we plotted about making Will Gardner cry like a little girl, this was _not_ in my top ten."

Diane's head shot up, her phone slipping from her hand and caught the figure walking into her room just in time. She didn't hold back the smile that appeared on her face, feeling the sudden relief that finally, she had someone she could be sure would be on her side.

"And those guards by the door? Oh, they have handcuffs!" she laughed, "They looked almost delicious…and young. Points for the uniforms. A girl can get used to that."

"You are not sleeping with those police officers."

"Of course not," Gwen Blackwell smirked, "But I can't deny it was a little bit of a turn on having them give me the proverbial pat-down. There's a list to your door, did you know that? You're like_ Studio 54 _before it went to hell. Bouncers and lists at the doors! How fabulous!"

Diane shook her head, "Oh, Gwen."

"Is that how you say hello, darling? To _moi_?" the former redhead practically strutted into the room, tossing her large bag onto the foot of her bed and proceeded to take her place beside her. Gwen didn't need any invitation as she sat her butt down next to Diane, slipping her coat off and chucked her coat over her bag, tilting her head sideways as she observed her face, "Darling, honestly, when does trouble _not_ find you?"

"I haven't been in trouble in quite a while," Diane pointed out.

"Well, not like _this_ maybe, but good god in heaven," Gwen shook her head, as if disappointed. "I've seen road kill look better."

Diane raised an eyebrow at her as her friend continued to talk non-stop, "I know healthcare can be quite tedious in terms of their budgets and such, but why such _cheap_ and pathetic _gowns_? I'm not asking for Chanel, but Christ! That is disgraceful!"

"They don't exactly have fittings before checking in," Diane deadpanned.

"Well, they should," Gwen pretended to huff before sighing loudly, "This is the kind of scenario where we don't talk unless the three loves of our lives are around, yes?"

Diane nodded, "I think for this…we're going to need four."

"Ah," Gwen nodded, "Jack, Jim, Jose and…hm, I'd say we go to hell in a hand basket and just invite the _two_ Glens. Bring the boys for the ride!"

"Trade one Glen for Johnny and I'm set," Diane smiled, "Johnny was my first."

"Done," Gwen winked, "I've always been more in love with Livet than Fiddich anyway but you mustn't tell a soul!" She giggled, "I'm not supposed to _have_ favorites."

The two friends settled and Diane tilted her head back, staring up at the ceiling before letting out a sigh of her own, "We're waiting for the boys, but I can say this now…"

Gwen watched her, her expression neutral. If Diane was willing to open up without alcohol or any prying, that was fine with her. She would listen, either way because that was why she came in the first place. She knew a thing or two about being a friend.

"…I am in dire need of my own clothes."

Gwen stopped and tilted her head, amuse as their eyes met and a pair of wicked grins appeared on their faces. She was silently thankful Diane hadn't lost her sense of humor because at least Gwen knew she was going to be fine. And was not a complete wreck.

"Now that I may assist _temporarily_ with," the dyed-raved haired visitor declared proudly, reaching for her tote and placed it on her lap, rummaging before she let out a triumphant sound. "But first! Mission One. I should have been a spy of some sort, I think. I could have been the effective Mata Hari, whom we both know was a chicken shit spy. That firing squad did her a favor."

Diane smiled fondly as she was handed her laptop, "I knew I risked my brother's wrath after your divorce for a good reason."

"I won you in that settlement fair and square," Gwen snarked, "But he was being a _bitch_ about the whole thing…aye, I didn't need that…where the hell is—oh! There we are!"

Being Gwen, she pulled out whatever she had dug up dramatically and Diane did not miss the flash of something that caught the light as her friend imitated the fanfare. She wasn't left with too much suspense though because as Gwen laid the silky material across her lap, she immediately realized what they were.

"You did not!" Diane laughed.

"I've had my shares of hospital stay, god awful places they are," Gwen sighed as Diane fingered the silky material of the set of pajamas she brought her. "I wanted something green…but midnight blue was the first thing I could grab. Still, better than that…whatever the hell they call what they put on you."

"Thank you," Diane smiled, "I have been _dying_ to get out of this gown. Annie brought me clothes, but they're for work. And I need a real bath."

"That you do," Gwen reached out to grab a lock of dark blonde hair, "I'm going to shop for you in a bit because I am an angel. That, and we simply _cannot_ have this on you, darling. It's just not _you_. And it's disgustingly bland. And scratchy. And—"

"I know, I know," Diane nodded, dislodging the piece of her hair from her friend's hand.

"Speaking of not you," Gwen began, straightening up as she replaced her bag at the end of the bed. "I met your lover—"

"Lover?"

"Cowboy sexy, sexy Cowboy," Gwen wrinkled her nose playfully, fluttering her thick lashes, "Broody with a quirky mustache and the posterior God created Levi's for."

Diane rolled her eyes, "He's not—"

"Oh, please, he was that piece of man candy that you were trying very hard not to divulge too much about," her former sister-in-law snickered, "But why the hell for? That ass is to die for. I'd be screaming from the rooftops if I wasn't busy screwing him if I were you."

Diane didn't miss the fact that she was dealing with 'loud mouth Gwen' at the moment, the outrageous one with the colorful vocabulary and even more colorful mind. She didn't mind though because there were the other Gwens who would rather make her talk than amuse her with what she thought of her ex-lover-maybe-not. She knew Gwen was only trying to make her laugh in the middle of the maelstrom that had become her life. She was very good at keeping Diane from thinking too much about things, which was what she needed at the moment.

"Gwen!"

"I was just looking," she sniffed, "I'm not blind or dead, you know. I can spot a good fuck—"

"Gwen, honestly! Don't you even _dare_."

"Hands off, darling, I promise," Gwen placed a sincere hand over her heart, "I wouldn't do that to you. And besides, I just saw William. Younger, cuter and I already have proof of my own that he is as good as he looks out of those fancy sui—"

"Do _not_ remind me," Diane groaned, closing her eyes and couldn't help but wince. "The last image I need in my mind now is my partner, oh, for Christ's sake…too late."

"Now _that_ was a night to never forget," Gwen sighed, "Oh, that boy and his talented, talented hands. I have _not_ forgiven you for interrupting, just so you know."

"Oh, god," Diane groaned, grabbing her laptop and turned it on. "Is this the reason why you _let_ him catch you?"

"Catch me? Why! He _snuck up _on me!" she said, aghast then stopped when the expression on her friend's face didn't change. She rolled her eyes, "Yes, yes," Gwen sighed, "I let him catch me red-handed rummaging, but the lucky part was that I already had it stowed away so, I grabbed a stack of papers…he bought it. Then again, for how long? I'm not too sure."

"I'm sure you found other ways to distract him," Diane said dryly.

Gwen shook her head, "Sadly, no. He seemed surprised...and the hair threw him off. Besides, there's that politician's wife—"

"Alicia."

"That one," Gwen snapped her fingers, "Who, from what I hear, is…well, there's something there though _you _refuse to tell me." She huffed, "But anyway, I made the boy blush but I didn't detect interest. I decided not to take it personally."

"Thank god for small favors," Diane mumbled. "And I am still not telling you about Alicia Florrick. It's none of your concern and she's an employee of mine."

Gwen rolled her eyes, "You are far too ethical for your own good."

Diane smirked, "A flaw, I _know_…don't you have some East Coast minions to torture over the phone every thirty minutes?"

"I'm lulling them into a false sense of security," Gwen waved a hand dismissively, "And excuse me, I only torture one man," Gwen turned her nose up, "And that's your brother. The people who work for me are merely being reintroduced to the world. In a more reality-based experience with, you know, bosses like me because they better believe I won't be the last of my kind! _But_ speaking of men I torture…where is that alimony-happy son of a—"

The door opened again and both women turned and saw the new visitor. Gwen immediately lit up, smiling wide as she waved him over, "Sexy, broody and with a pair of jeans made by God himself! Hey there, Cowboy!"

"Oh, good god," Diane mumbled, covering her face with her good hand before letting her head fall back into the pillows.

"Hi," Kurt McVeigh walked into the room, seeming unsure and even though the new woman had been inviting, there was hesitancy in his steps.

Diane looked at him then and merely smiled at him, inclining her head in the slightest to let him know it was safe to enter and gave him a subtle eye roll in the general direction of her friend who seemed entirely too happy to see him. She would rather not delve into the mind of Gwen Blackwell then.

"We were _just_ talking about my ex-husband," Gwen declared, "I'm sure you've met him—big dope walking around with nary a clue on anything and everything under the sun, yes?"

"He has and they're fine," Diane answered for him, "And he's met your son as well."

"Oh, that boy!" Gwen trilled, "I can only imagine how he reacted to you," she eyed Kurt. "He's not quite used to having a rival for the affections of his favorite aunt, you see."

"Gwen…"

Kurt shook his head, "Nick seems like a good kid."

"Yes, well, I won't take full credit," Gwen said with an honest smile, "Now, come and sit, you. I can regale you with stories about Di—" she stopped when she _felt _the glare, "_Daniel_, my ex. He's a general idiot, but oh, the stories!"

Diane shook her head, "Anything but the Ibiza story."

"Party pooper."

"You're better off not knowing," Diane said to Kurt as Gwen jumped right into another story, well and far away from Ibiza.

Gwen began to carry the conversation, not entirely noticing how Kurt merely took his seat on the other side of the bed, settling down with a small smile on his face. Diane welcomed the subtle gestures, allowing him to place his hand on her forearm as he got comfortable. The silent communication was enough for that moment as they let her best friend take the floor entirely, regaling them with tales about her ex-husband and a few pieces of her life then.

He noticed the laptop and the cell phone, but decided not to press on then. Instead, Kurt sat there, letting himself relax as he watched how the strange woman he'd met on the elevator pulled out smiles from his former lover's face as she continued with her stories. He smiled and laughed along, letting them have their moment together.

The two were obviously catching up, Diane enjoying the easiness of having someone to talk to without worrying about having to explain anything and Gwen was all too glad to be the distraction. None of them had noticed, not even Kurt himself, how he began to dose, resting his head on the bed over his folded arm, falling asleep an hour after arriving.

Diane wove her fingers in his hair absently, lulling him further into relaxation as she guessed correctly that he must have needed the rest. Somehow, she imagined he hadn't gotten enough sleep the night before after making him stay with her so late and she hated to think she was running him ragged.

She would give him time, she decided, as she caught up with Gwen. Her brother's first wife always had a way of bringing fresh light into any room she entered and that was exactly what she needed in that moment. For all her faults, Gwen was always going to be the entertainer, the funny girl who knew what to do when things went dark. And she was thankful for that.

And the bed-bound patient didn't mind at all, feeling a lot better to be with two people she could find comfort being around without holding too many of her shattered walls up for too much. Gwen knew her, better than a lot of people could guess and Kurt was, once again, doing things to her that she could not entirely figure out how but didn't care to distress herself with. They allowed her to relax, took her to another place where she wasn't surrounded by the gloom.

She would thank them both later for coming, for that moment, she was going to let herself laugh and allow Gwen to bring her back to the land of the living. Because the sooner she did that, the faster she was going to get her life back on track. She was sure she'd heard somewhere laughter was a good cure for pretty much anything. And she wasn't about to acknowledge what a load that sounded like. Not now.

Gwen did a good job, so good that Diane had even forgotten about killing Julius Caine and Will Gardner.

And if they knew, they would have thanked her too.

-o0o-

Being sure was crucial in any business.

Personally though, he viewed that being _sure_ was crucial in any and every aspect of one's life. After all, he simply couldn't imagine trudging on through life successfully without thinking, planning and executing every action with precision. To him, it simply wasn't imaginable. Spontaneity has its benefits, of course, but he was a man who liked to know what he was doing and having an outcome to expect.

After all, he didn't get to where he was by going into things blindly. He had equal amounts of cunning, wit, intelligence and precision. He was calculating and shrewd enough to do the things he was capable of doing. There was no eternal secret, at least, not really. If he gambled, he did it rarely and always made sure he had his wits about him enough to know when to walk away. Never leave the table beaten if being beaten is unavoidable and little to no acceptable risks were allowed, depending on the rewards.

So that did not explain how Malcolm Overby found himself in a place where he swore he would never go to again, not after last time. He wasn't meant to come back. That was the agreement.

He'd been assured there would only be _one_ transaction, simple as that and yet here he was, standing in the middle of an underground garage uptown. It was dark, empty and cold, much like one would expect in places like that. It was convenient, not too out of the way to be suspicious and the occupants of the building were mostly professionals who had fixed working schedules though he wasn't there too early or too late to rouse suspicion.

Now his logical side rebelled at such a repeat of what his mind screamed was an _incredibly _stupid thing to do. This was _not_ right, he thought once again, this was _foolish_. It was bad enough he had allowed this to be set in motion , he could not even claim to not know what he was getting into. He had gone into this with his eyes wide open after he had been warned and he had weighed his options.

But what happened to Diane changed everything drastically and there was no way he could risk any more. It was time to fold and he knew now that it had been incredibly foolish have started this in the first place. The ramifications were far too great and he wasn't going to deny the visit from the police had scared him. He was done.

If only his contact would show already because all he had to do was tell him to stop, give him the money and walk away because he wanted to get the hell out of there. The sooner he severed ties—and that was his very intent—the better for him. What rotten luck. He'd never seen such bad timing. Why did it have to happen now?

Malcolm sighed, leaning back against his seat and stared at the ceiling of his car, lost in his thoughts. He shouldn't have started it in the first place. He'd been so eager to show her, to pay her back for their last meeting. He'd been _so_ sure about the buyout and she just went and changed her mind. Malcolm can admit that he'd let his pride get the better of him.

It had been so perfect, that's all, and he _had _plans that would have led to such great opportunities. He'd gotten so ahead of himself, thinking their previous acquaintance and her sudden desire to reconnect with him was enough to give him a done deal. It would have been enough to give him the sole majority he needed for his firm.

Thinking about it used to make Malcolm angry, but the questioning with the detectives had been enough to get him to put things in perspective. She wasn't worth it now, not with the publicity the whole thing was going to get. Good or bad, Malcolm didn't want it. He had clients who preferred to shy away from public scrutiny and he was sure the same could be said with some of the names on her roster as well. Malcolm was almost glad their plans had fallen through.

Malcolm sat up as the shadows that bathed the lot were suddenly chased away for by a set of bright headlights. There was the familiar large Ford Everest entering and he waited until it came to a stop, claiming the same blank spot that he had done in their first meet. Malcolm wondered just how often he did business there.

As he had done before, he waited until the man got out, getting out of his large truck and walked towards his car. There was a lit cigarette dangling between his fingers and he almost scowled. He was a scotch-man, he liked fine drinks but he was never one for smoking or recreational drugs. Alcohol was his vice of choice. Then again, to each his own.

"Mr. Overby."

Malcolm shook his head and merely took out a bulky manila envelope, handing it over through the window without a word and stared straight through his windshield in stony silence.

"Oh, come on, you can't still be mad," the man teased, chuckling then stopped when Malcolm didn't bother to react. He frowned, shaking his head before leaning into the window, "Fine. You wanna be a little bitch, you got it. Give me the money and we're done."

"Tell me you had nothing to do with it."

"Jesusfuckingchrist," the man growled under his breath. His hand was itching to reach for his gun under his shirt. This nut job was grating on his nerves and he was more than a little tempted to just put a bullet through his brain and be done with it. But he paid good money and he wasn't just something he could sweep under the rug, "I didn't, get it? If I wanted her dead for you, I woulda done it and you would be paying for my next trip to Miami, alright? I'd have snapped her neck."

"You—"

"I don't play with my food, alright? I'm no cat."

Then a standoff ensued, both men glaring at each other for a tense moment before the lawyer broke eye contact, tapping the envelope he had in his hand before shaking his head.

"After this, we're done," Malcolm finally looked at him, the cold glare he was giving the man unflinching even though he knew very well should he choose to kill him, he easily could. He wasn't just some common street-thug. "You walk away clean. I do the same. We don't speak to each other again."

"Until you need your ex-wife whacked, yeah sure," the man said casually, "Now, gimme the money and we walk away, moneybags."

Malcolm gave him a distasteful look, "This is the last of it. Believe me. You don't know me, I don't know you. You don't even _look _my way when we pass each other on the street."

"You're a real drama queen, you know that?"

Malcolm suppressed the urge to scream. Nobody talked to him that way and especially not lowlifes. But he wasn't stupid. No one knew where he was at the moment or even who he was with. He knew the man could just as good as kill him if he antagonized him even more and leave none the wiser for a while. He could skip town and no one would ever know. The faster they got out of each other's lives, the better.

Malcolm knew this had been an incredibly bad choice right from the beginning.

"Here," he gave him the envelope, "As you asked. Now, we're done."

"Pleasure," the man smirked, "Now get the hell outta here."

Malcolm started his car.

"Until next time, Mr. Overby. My services are always open. For you."

He glared at his smiling face, "Don't count on it."

And as Malcolm Overby drove away, he could only sigh in relief, glad it had been over and he would never have to deal with that character ever again. It was good that he got out before anything serious could take place. Truly, he had only ever meant to scare Diane Lockhart.

But even then, even with the relief washing over him, Malcolm couldn't quite stop his heart from hammering against his chest. He was walking away yet there was that heavy feeling of dread plaguing him but he decided to ignore it as he drove all the way home, looking forward to a good stiff drink and his bed. It was still fresh, that was all, he thought. It would go away, in time. He was sure of it.

And the sooner he put this behind him, the better.

-o0o-

"Okay, so I think I've got something for you."

Will glanced at the area outside his office, seeing no one there and making sure the doors of the office across from his were still closed before pressing his phone firmly into his ear, "You _think_?"

"I've been talking to people," Josh Gates explained, "You know, the usual ghouls? I know a couple'a guys and I keep hearing about this Carlos, no last name. He'll work for anything, s'long as you pay him. That kinda guy."

"Real go-getter, okay," Will nodded, "So, what do I need to know about…Carlos?"

"Well, there's been talk that Carlos just closed a deal with some rich guy," Gates said, "Some guys heard he's been doing some surveillance work for him, you know? Track someone 'round the city and most of them spotted him hanging 'round courthouses and everything. There's not much to confirm yet _but_ there's talk about how he might have been following a woman."

"Wife?"

"Rich guy's not married, 'cording to them," Gates said, "And where the Carlos guy has been hanging? Not far from your building."

Will frowned, "You think the job was Diane?"

"It's possible," Gates replied, "Nothing concrete, I mean, this Carlos guy doesn't talk to many people, you know? And usually, he goes for the pick-up stuff. Hire him to get you this or that or just find someone. Tracking is a rare deal for him, but he can do it." He cleared his throat, "And I know there's some issues with photos with your partner. The ones they found at her house?"

"But they caught the guy who took those photos," Will frowned, "He's dead. This Carlos character can't have been the one following Diane."

"Yeah, well, that's what I heard," Gates said simply, "I can follow up, look around. I'm sure I can find someone to gimme what I need. Who knows? I mighta find Carlos himself."

Will shook his head, "I'm sure it's a mistake, but yeah…go ahead. See what you can find about that guy. I can't imagine someone else is in this…whatever this is, but I want to be sure."

"Could be nothing, you know," Gates suggested, "I don't think Carlos goes for the gun for hire thing. He's a finder, retriever, the kinda guy you go to for stolen paintings and stuff. Unless he's branching out now and decided gun for hire would look good on his profile."

"Low level thugs," Will nodded, "Crooks and thieves."

"Just like the good old days," Gates chuckled, "I'll give you more, if I find anything else."

"Yeah," Will nodded, "Oh, and Kalinda's still out so you better watch your back."

"Screw you, asshole," Gates growled simply before hanging up on him.

Will chuckled, putting his phone aside before pulling out his bottom drawer. He proceeded to pull out the photos, checking them once before transferring them to his briefcase, all the while thinking about Mark Jackson and the photos that had been found in his apartment. Everything had matched, that much Kalinda had told him and he found no reason to doubt her. Whoever the Carlos character was, Will hoped he wasn't in any way tied to Diane or what happened.

After all, just _how many _persons could end up having one woman followed around the city anyway? Diane was average in terms of attracting trouble, but Will was pretty sure not in this particular way. This was more his area, pissing people off and having them come after him. She tended to set her fires in courtrooms where people retaliated in the same place. Whoever the Carlos character was, it had to be something else.

Will never doubted Joshua Gates, never had him do anything that ended ass-backwards. Gates knew his stuff, knew who to talk to and where to go. He was good at his job, playing the private dick. Will trusted him and his work.

But there was a first time for everything and Will was sure, somehow Gates had gotten his wires crossed somewhere. And now that he had corrected that, Will hoped he would have something better the next time he called, considering. So far, there was nothing turning up but it had not been more than forty-hours yet. Will just needed to be patient.

If not, he could always check with the police. If they had anything, he can ask and find out and if they said no, well, Will knew there were other ways.

That, and there was Kalinda who had checked in. So far, on her end, she didn't have much, which led to Will thinking—hoping—that maybe it began and ended with Mark Jackson and his death. Will sat back, his favorite baseball in hand and began to roll it between his hands, his thoughts alternating between Carlos with no last name, Mark and how everything that didn't seem to have a link just end up spreading through their lives.

He was sure there were reasons, answers and even more questions, but he was beginning to feel that the more he looked, the more people involved in the looking, the less they were finding. It had begun with Diane, then Jackson, then Spellman then a few more people. Now a Carlos character.

And none of it didn't seem all that eager to jell together and make sense.

Will fiddled with his favorite old baseball and couldn't help how his mind began to turn and nothing of it involved work. There had to be an answer, in the middle everything.

But how the hell were they going to find it?

-o0o-

The room was bright under the glaring white fluorescent lights.

And after spending the last four days in the darkness of his room with only a computer screen to provide any light source, it was safe to say the sudden change had not been pleasant at all. His eyes were throbbing along with his head in a steady rhythm and every time he blinked, it felt as if there was a boulder rolling back and forth in the space where his brain used to be.

His back hurt from hours of sitting and being unceremoniously yanked up and thrown out back into the world, slammed face-first onto a hood of a squad car then shoved into the seat. His body was protesting from his and as well as the officer's abuse but he kept quiet. He was lucky they only cuffed his wrists together after hearing their brief discussion whether they should cuff his ankles as well as he sat there with only the chair he occupied and the matching a metal table in the middle of the room.

All they had given him was half a glass of water and that was a _good will_ gesture already, from what he could guess because he was pretty sure they argued about that glass too. The room was cold as well and across from him was a one way mirror. He bet they were watching him like a hawk and had been for what felt like hours he's been sitting there. He would have drank water, but he was sure his hands would shake too much and he would either spill or just drop the glass altogether. He didn't need more trouble.

He had been read his rights and he had demanded for a lawyer already but ever since he'd been thrown into the white, white room, nothing else had happened. Just him, sitting there for what felt like hours on end and he's picked at his nails to the quick already. And there's no tissue or anything in sight so he wiped the blood from the edges around his nails on his shirt and jeans. His mother always yelled at him for picking his nails and he hasn't done this in a long time, but now it was back in full force and his fingers were feeling that familiar stinging pains again.

Wincing a little, he brought the middle finger of his left hand to his mouth, sucking on the blood and resisted the urge to start nipping at his skin. He had his bout with nail biting as well. Where the _hell_ was his goddamned lawyer? He should have been there by now. Hell, any lawyer? Or even the cops. The waiting was driving him mad.

But then maybe that was the point, he decided. They seemed pretty pissed when they picked him up. Okay, so maybe he's been playing hide and seek with the Chicago Police Department. It wasn't intentional, at least, not really. Some guy said something about being after him for a long time, but come on, really?

Then his knee began to move, bouncing up and down and even when he straightened up in his seat, he couldn't stop the rhythmic bouncing of his leg, his sneaker squeaking lightly on the linoleum floor. He reached with his cuffed hands, trying to grab hold of his knee to no avail. Shit.

He just had to wait it out. He was pretty sure they had nothing on him because he didn't even know what he had done, they couldn't just hold him for nothing. He was as good as gone and maybe he might even sue the whole department for harassment.

The door on the other side of the room clicked and he sat up expectantly, readying the tirade he had been preparing to throw when the door opened. He took a deep breath, clearing his throat silently. The door swung open and he almost started, only to freeze and suddenly shut up, his eyes growing wide before his mouth fell open.

Stepping into the room with a cool expression on her face was the _last_ person he had ever expected to encounter in the police department. Or anywhere, really.

Kalinda Sharma entered the room, folder in hand and an eerie air of calm on her face.

He felt his spine stiffen at the sight of her, decidedly sure now that somehow, no matter how well he covered his tracks, this was the end of the line for him. He had done what he had been paid to do and was told not to worry. Evidently, they had been wrong because now, he was beyond worried. He was petrified. What was she doing in a precinct anyway? And where was his lawyer? He was going to make sure a judge heard this!

"Wh-what are you doing here?"

Her expression shifted, but only in the subtlest manner and he wasn't even sure if she was smiling or not. It didn't make her seem any less eerie though because even as she strode into the room with the grace of a cat, she remained silent. She didn't make a sound, didn't move too fast, she simply moved towards him, her dark eyes never leaving his.

It only scared him more.

"You're not supposed to be here. I want my lawyer!" his eyes went to the one way mirror and he saw the expression of fear clear as day on his face in his reflection, "Hey! Get her out of here! I want my lawyer!"

"No one's there, Darius," Kalinda said, standing in front of him across the table, tossing the folder in front of him and opened it without further ceremony. Even in the bright lights of the interrogation room, she still had that sinister darkness about her, the kind of darkness that not a sane man would ever want to have focused on him.

"Get the hell out of here!" he demanded, frantic. Where were the cops?

The woman merely shook her head, bending forward and directed her attention on the file and photo she held open in front of him, pointing with a finger right at the face.

She raised an eyebrow in his direction and simply said, "Talk."


End file.
